Classic Poem

T HERE'S no in bonnie Scotland's isle
A mair enchanting scene
Than Castle Sempill's waving woods
And lovely lawns o' green;
And yet the heiress o' them a'
Is pressed wi' grief and pain —
They canna get a smile ava
Frae bonnie Lady Jane.

For they wad hae her wed a knicht,
While ane o' laich degree
Is far, far dearer to her hert,
The aipple o' her e'e.
And they wad hae her wed the knicht
For titles and domain, —
They reckna tho' the hert they brak
O' bonnie Lady Jane.

There's no an humble cottage maid
But's blither far than she;
The lowest in their wide domain
Has nae sic weird to dree.
As day fades o'er the Arran hills
She wanders a' her lane
To sigh beside the murm'ring rills —
Wae's me for Lady Jane!

Her bridal robes they hae prepared,
And joy is in the ha',
But, like a startled midnicht ghaist,
She glides frae 'mang them a'.
The rose is fading frae her cheek,
Her lichtsome hert is gane;
They soon maun weave a winding-sheet
For bonnie Lady Jane.