Song’€”Composed in Spring

Again rejoicing nature sees
    Her robe assume its vernal hues,
Her leafy looks wave in the breeze,
    All freshly steep’d in morning dews.
         And maun I still on Menie doat,
              And bear the scorn that’s in her ee?
         For it’s jet, jet black, an’ it’s like a hawk,
              An’ it winna let a body be!
In vain to me the cowslips blaw,
    In vain to me the vi’lets spring;
In vain to me, in glen or shaw,
    The mavis and the lintwhite sing.
         And maun I still...
The merry ploughboy cheers his team,
    Wi’ joy the tentie seedsman stalks,
But life to me 's a weary dream,
    A dream of ane that never wauks.
         And maun I still...
The wanton coot the water skims,
    Among the reeds the ducklings cry,
The stately swan majestic swims,
    And every thing is blest but I.
         And maun I still...
The shepherd steeks his faulding slap,
    And owre the moorlands whistles shill,
Wi’ wild, unequal, wand’ring step,
    I meet him on the dewy hill.
         And maun I still...
And when the lark, 'tween light and dark,
    Blythe waukens by the daisy’s side,
And mounts and sings on fluttering wings,
    A woe-worn ghaist I hameward glide.
         And maun I still...
Come, Winter, with thine angry howl,
    And raging bend the naked tree;
Thy gloom will soothe my cheerless soul,
    When Nature all is sad like me!
         And maun I still...
Autres oeuvres par Robert Burns...