Lost Youth

As I gaed ower the stormy muir
The sky was riven like the sea;
The muir-fowl fled the onding's rage,
Aroon the sleet fell cruelly.

'Whaur are ye gaun on sic a nicht?'
The reeshlin bracken seemed tae speer.
'A road that hisna seen my step
This mony a dreary year.'

As I cam ben the soundin Dee
The birks wir chitterin i' the mist,
`Gae back, gae back,' they whispert, saft,
`It is a worthless tryst.'

As I cam ower the Linn o Muick,
The larik murmered through the smoor,
`Oh whaur left ye the bonnie bairn,
That cam' this road afore?'

Syne, I glanced blythely in the burn,
Bit oh, my hairt wis turned tae stane.
A wizened wife wis mirrored there —
The bonnie bairn had gaen.

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