William Glen Poems

Blink over the burn, sweet Betty,
Blink over the burn to me;
Blink over the burn, sweet Betty,
...

My tortured bosom long shall feel
The pangs o' this last sad fareweel;
Far, far to foreign lands I stray,
...

How eerily, how drearily, how wearily to pine,
When my love 's in a foreign land, far frae thae arms o' mine;
...

Her eyes were red with weeping,
Her lover was no more,
Beneath the billows sleeping,
Near Ireland's rocky shore;
...

The sun hadna peep'd frae behint the dark billow,
The slow sinking moon half illumined the scene;
As I lifted my head frae my care-haunted pillow,
...

Sing a' ye bards, wi' loud acclaim,
High glory gie to gallant Graham,
Heap laurels on our marshal's fame
...

Raise high the battle-song
To the heroes of our land;
Strike the bold notes loud and long
To Great Britain's warlike band.
...

Oh! stopna, bonnie bird, that strain,
Frae hopeless love itsel' it flows;
Sweet bird, oh! warble it again,
...

A wee bird cam to our ha' door,
He warbled sweet an' clearly,
An' aye the owercome o' his sang
...