Читать книгу Random Rhymes and Rambles - Bill o'th' Hoylus End - Страница 29

Night’s sombre mantle is spreading over,

   Ah, woe is me, these long tedious days;

Why dist thou leave me, my venturous lover?

   Why did thou cross the raging seas?

Its melancholy here I’m lying,

   Half broken-hearted, drechen dear;

Each blast I hear, love, for thee is sighing,

   Each billow roaring a shed tear.

How can they say that all-perfect nature

   Has nothing done or made in vain?

When that beneath the roaring water,

   Does hideous rocks and cliffs remain.

No eyes these rocks or cliffs discover,