The joy of meeting one so fair,
Inspires the present stream of song;
A bonny belle,
That few excel,
And one with whom I few compare,
Though out of sight so long.
It is a cause of much delight,
When lads and lasses meet again;
But, bonny belle,
No long to dwell,
For soon, upon the wing of flight,
We haste away in pain.
That long hid form I smile to trace,
A star emerging out of gloom,
Whose powers impel,
And draw the heart by every grace,
The queen of every bloom.
Long out of sight, but still in mind,
Eternal me'mry holds its grasp,
Still, bonny belle,
'Tis sweet to tell
Of thee, when I am left behind
In sorrow's lonely clasp.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem