WILLY IS GANE.
By John G. Smith. Row on, bonnie Eden, thro' yon leafy shau, An' murmur yere saner at the saft gloamin' fa* While on yere sweet braes, I mnun wander alane, An' mourn for my laddie —my Willy that's gane. A garland o' roses he twined for my hair, Mair precious to me than o' perns rich an' mre ; To wear'fc for his sake, I was gladsome an' fnin, But the flowers are a' withered —for Willy is gane. Ye warblers that sport in the green shady grove, O why sing sac sweetly the joys o' yere love ; Ye fair bloomin' flow'rets that smile on the plain, 0 why do ye blossom—sin' Willy is gane. The sang o' the throstle is dowie and wae, That ance cheered the glade i' the. blithe simmer day ; An' thrilled amy bosom wi' rapture —but then My Willy was wi' me —but now he is gane. The gowans that shone like wee sterns on the lea, Tlie cowslip that smiled 'neth our auld trystin' tree ; Now hing their wee heads, when they see that alane 1 wander and grieve for my Willy that's gane. Ye blasts o' the winter —blaw gurly an' keen, An' spread desolation owre a' the fair scene j Ye voices o' Nature, Oh! join in the maen, My heart is outpourin' for Willy that's gane. a
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Southland Times, Issue 587, 5 November 1866, Page 3
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228WILLY IS GANE. Southland Times, Issue 587, 5 November 1866, Page 3
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