Poem by Robert Burns

Strathallan’s Lament

THICKEST night, o’erhang my dwelling!
  Howling tempests, o’er me rave!
Turbid torrents, wintry swelling,
  Still surround my lonely cave!

Crystal streamlets gently flowing,
  Busy haunts of base mankind,
Western breezes softly blowing,
  Suit not my distracted mind.

In the cause of right engaged,
  Wrongs injurious to redress,
Honour’s war we strongly waged,
  But the heavens denied success.

Ruin’s wheel has driven o’er us,
  Not a hope that dare attend;
The wide world is all before us-
  But a world without a friend!

1. Sleep’st Thou, or Wak’st Thou
2. Simmer’s a Pleasant Time
3. It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonnie Face
4. The Bonnie Wee Thing
5. Castle Gordon

Print

3390 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version