Уильям Том (William Thom)

The Wedded Waters

GADIE wi’ its waters fleet,
Ury wi’ its murmur sweet,
They hae trysted aye to meet
      Among the woods o’ Logie.
Like bride an’ bridegroom happy they,
Wooing smiles frae bank an’ brae,
Their wedded waters wind an’ play
      Round leafy bowers at Logie.

O’er brashy linn, o’er meadow fine,
They never sinder, never tyne,
An’, O, I thought sic meetings mine,
      Yon happy hours at Logie!
But Fortune’s cauld an’ changefu’ e’e,
Gloomed bitterly on mine an’ me,
I looket syne, but cou’dna see
      My sworn love at Logie.

Now lowly, lanely, I may rue
The guilefu’ look, the guilefu’ vow,
That fled as flees the feckless dew
      Frae withered leaves at Logie.
But Gadie wi’ its torrents keen,
An’ Ury wi’ its braes sae green,
They a’ can tell how true I ’ve been
      To my lost love in Logie.

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