Song Inscribed To Alexander Cunningham

ring blast,

my youth and joy e.

the waken'd lav'rock warbling springs,

and climbs the early sky,

winnowing blythe his dewy wings

in m's rosy eye;

as little reck'd i sorrow's power,

until the flowery snare

o'witg love, in luckless hour,

made me the thrall o' care.

o had my fate been greenland snows,

or afric's burning zone,

wi'man and nature leagued my foes,

so peggy ne'er i'd known!

the wretch whose doom is “hope nae mair”

what tongue his woes tell;

within whase bosom, save despair,

nae kinder spirits dwell.