Sweet fa's the eve on Craigieburn, <br /> And blythe awakens the morrow, <br />But a' the pride o' spring's return <br /> Can yield me nocht but sorrow. <br /> <br />I see the flowers and spreading trees, <br /> I hear the wild birds singing; <br />But what a weary wight can please, <br /> And care his bosom wringing? <br /> <br />Fain, fain would I my griefs impart, <br /> Yet darena for your anger' <br />But secret love will break my heart, <br /> If I conceal it langer. <br /> <br />If thou refuse to pity me, <br /> If thou shalt love anither, <br />When yon green leaves fade frae the tree, <br /> Around my grave they'll wither.<br /><br />Robert Burns<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/craigieburn-wood/
