Poem by Robert Burns

The Death of John M’Leod, Esq

Brother to a young lady, a particular friend of the author’s

SAD thy tale, thou idle page,
  And rueful thy alarms:
Death tears the brother of her love
  From Isabella’s arms.

Sweetly deckt with pearly dew
  The morning rose may blow;
But cold successive noontide blasts
  May lay its beauties low.

Fair on Isabella’s morn
  The sun propitious smil’d;
But, long ere noon, succeeding clouds
  Succeeding hopes beguil’d.

Fate oft tears the bosom chords
  That Nature finest strung:
So Isabella’s heart was form’d,
  And so that heart was wrung.

Dread Omnipotence alone
  Can heal the wound He gave;
Can point the brimful grief-worn eyes
  To scenes beyond the grave.

Virtue’s blossoms there shall blow,
  And fear no withering blast;
There Isabella’s spotless worth
  Shall happy be at last.

1. Sleep’st Thou, or Wak’st Thou
2. The Bonnie Wee Thing
3. Farewell, Thou Stream
4. Craigieburn Wood
5. Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns

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