The book Arran; - Cook Clan

GAELIC SONGS OF ARRAN 335
We are in this world
But as a blast of wind on the hill,
That quickly rushes past us
Not seeing whence it came
Thus is death amongst mankind
With his sting and edge wounding them.
And dividing them asunder,
And no one can stay him.
Grass will grow on the plains
With genial showers from the clouds,
The birds will awake to tunefulness
As they see the blossoming woods ;
Everything shall spring according to its nature,
With heat and warmth from the ground,
But my fair love I shall never see
Coming to meet me with cheer.
—
The cuckoo will come in spring-time
With her call from the branch tops,
Grass will grow in the glens
; ;
By the heat of summer's sun
The flowers and the clover
Will grow luxuriantly together,
But the cause of my grief
Shall never again keep me company.
O ! but I am in sorrow.
In sadness and woe.
When I remember thy companionship
And thy love from thy lips
Though the world I would possess
Given to me as my right
O ! how much would I prefer
Thy loving embraces than gold.
Little wonder I am ageing,
And my locks growing grey,
'Tis food and music to my soul
To be alone with my thoughts.
;
—