Fair Helen.
[Tune, "Humours of Glen."]
The bright rose o' simmer the brier was adornin',
An' sweet fell the perfume encirclin' the flower,
An' rich on its leaves hung the tears o' the mornin',
An' saft sigh'd the gale thro' the brier-shaded bower:
But Helen, fair Helen, the early dawn courtin',
Appear'd, an' now pale grew the rose's deep dye;
When rival'd Aurora beheld the nymph sportin',
She mantled her face in a fold o' the sky.
Enraptured I saw her sae bloomin' an' bonnie,
That love bade the full tide o' fervour to flow;
But blame na my ardour, for tell me could onie
Resist the fond impulse—ah! tell me? oh no.—
Though calm was the hour, and delicious the pleasure.
When viewin' the beauties o' Nature sae fair.
Beside lovely Helen, 'twas joy without measure,
The fairest, the dearest, the sweetest was there!
A boon may I venture to beg frae thee. Heaven?
Amid a' my care, an' my toil, an' my fear,
Be the heart-warmin' impulse o' frien'ship me given,
To live in her smile, or be worthy her tear:
An' never, thou dread power. Adversity, bend her;
Frae sadness an' sorrow, oh! aye be she free:
That ilka true bliss may for ever attend her,—
Is the prayer o' the poet, dear Helen, for thee.