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As on their slender forms I gaze,
But through the broken glass the gale
dream! Roused by the sound, I start and see The ruin'd sad reality!
Now Nature hangs her mantle green
On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o' daisies white
Out o'er the grassy lea :
And glads the azure skies ;
That fast in durance lies.
Dueen Mary’s Lament.
Now lav'rocks wake the merry morn,
Aloft on dewy wing;
Makes woodland echoes ring;
Sings drowsy day to rest :
Wi care nor thrall opprest.
Now blooms the lily by the bank,
The primrose down the brae ;
And milk-white is the slae ;
May rove their sweets amang ;
Maun lie in prison strang!
I was the queen o' bonny France,
Where happy I hae been ; Fu' lightly rase I in the morn,
As blithe lay down at e'en : And I'm the sov'reign of Scotland,
And mony a traitor there ; Yet here I lie in foreign bands,
And never-ending care.
Dueen Mary's Lament.
But as for thee, thou false woman !
My sister and my fae,
That through thy soul shall gae!
Was never known to thee; Nor the balm that draps on wounds of woe
Frae woman's pitying ee.
My son! my son! may kinder stars
Upon thy fortune shine!
That ne'er wad blink on mine!
Or turn their hearts to thee:
Remember him for me!
Oh! soon to me may summer suns
Nae mair light up the morn!
Wave o'er the yellow corn!
Let winter round me rave;
Bloom on my peaceful grave!