MONDAY, JANUARY 1, 1872.

On the Death of "Margaret Tait" 1847

The Sunbeams gild the woody height

And through the waving branches play.

Unwished for dream night retires

I joyless view returning day.

I wander here alone forlorn

And care nae what may next befa'.

Tears trickling down to mix wi "Thine"

Lamenting Her that's taen awa.

In vain for one the [illegible] blooms

And sweetly blossoms every tree

Pale Death has cast his shadow o'er

My Friend, my Sister, where is she?

Ye warblers cease your plaintive strains

Ye green leaves aff your branches fa'.

Come dreamy nature mourn wi' me

Death's left your fairest flower awa.

See down her "Lover's" manly cheeks,

The tears of woe are gushing fast.

The future seems a dreary Blank

He daurna view the blissful pact.

Oh haste, oh haste, ye wintry winds

And clothe the Plains in sleety snow

Oh spring nae mair return again

Ye bring nae her that's taen awa.

- over -