Wednesday, August 8, 2007

The Lost Love


Stop Light Moment
Jack Vettriano
Poem borrowed from Thelma.......

The Lost Love


Dear lassie, we must part!
That might our ruin prove!
Let others whisper in thy ear
The tender tale of love.
Could I my thoughts command,
I'd think no more of thee,
For doubly dear-bought were our loves,
If love dear-bought can be.
Yet still I'll think of thee,
And of the slow-winged hour
When first we talked of hopeless love
Beneath the snowy bower;
So warm my bosom glows,
Enraptured with thy name,
That thus I deem my rustic hand
Can sweep the lyre of time.

Yes, I will sing of thee,
So dear to me's the theme,
And distant years shall hear the lay,
By mountain, vale, and stream;
Fair Scotia's nymphs and swains
Shall sing thy every charm,
And woo each other with the strains
That still my bosom warm.

The tree is not yet sown,
Whose seed shall plant the groves,
That, listening to our tender tale,
Shall echo back our loves;
The acorn is not formed
That yet shall grow a tree,
Whose branch shall lull to rest the babe
That oft shall sing of thee.

 

 

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