The Highland monthly - National Library of Scotland

The MuiiHand Btirn. 369
THE MUIRLAND BURN.
FULL
—
meekly in the morning light
The smiling blue of day
The Muirland Burn, with many's a turn,
Goes purling on its way.
Benign Aurora, peeping down.
Delights to greet thy tide,
And the lambs at play are never so gay
As dancing by thy side.
The daisy and the heather-bell.
—
Neglectful of the dew,
Have breathed a vow, tho' I can't tell how,
To live and die for \'ou.
But none could help observing them,
Bedecked in colours new.
As, over the sod, they beckon and nod,
And set their cap at you.
The heather-bell bespoke the lark
To sing a song above,
And hired the bee with a little fee
To whisper of her love.
But the daisy heard thy rippling voice.
And bowed her pearly crest.
And, perfectly still, she listened her fill
To the tune that pleased her best.
That rhyme of silver melody,
I heard a milkmaid say,
Was the fairies' croon of an afternoon
In ages passed away,
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