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Wae
worth thy power, thou cursed leaf!
Fell source o a' my woe and grief,
For lack o thee I've lost my lass,
For lack o thee I scrimp my glass!
I see the children of affliction
Unaided, through thy curs'd restriction.
I've seen the oppressor's cruel smile
Amid his hapless victims' spoil;
And for thy potence vainly wish'd,
To crush the villain in the dust.
For lack o thee, I leave this much?lov'd shore,
Never, perhaps, to greet old Scotland more.
KYLE R.B.
Poem Index
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