Classic Poem

The day is düne, my dear one—
The shadows lengthening fast.
There 's licht yet on the hill heid
But süne it will hae pass't.

The day has no' been fair, man,
As weel it micht hae been;
For love we had to wed us,
Tho' ills crept in a-tween.

Aye, luck seemed ours in plenty,
Thae days when we began—
When bairnies cam' to cheer us
As oot an' in they ran.

But noo the sands are rinnin'
And nicht for me draws on,
Our herts for love come nearer
And mind the days long gone.

The days when wark was pleesure
For baith were young and strong—
When bonnie hairsts an' lambin'
Garred Life gae like a song.

I mind the place I met ye
Beside the auld mill ford,
And o' the day ye kiss't me
And vowed before the Lord.

It 's a' bye noo an' weary—
I hae nae thocht o' blame—
I 'm only wae to leave ye;
But lad, ye 'll süne be hame.