The Disconsolate Wren

“The brae hung owre in bushy height,
And hade it close frae ony's sight,
That dauner't through the glen;
Nane e'er observed us jink within,
Or ever there for nests did fin,
'Twas sic a lanely den.
And mony a day and night I sat,
While my wee Tam did sing,
Till saxteen bonny things I gat,
A hotching 'neath each wing.
What pleasure, this treasure
Gied us, I needna' tell;
Sic pleasure, sic treasures,
Ye've aft enjoyed yoursel'.

“Soon as the gladsome morning rose,
I left them rowed in warm repose,
And through the warbling wood,
'Mang auld tree roots and prickly brier,
My Tam and me, withouten fear,
Roved for their wanted food;
And, oh! what transports swelled my breast,
At night, when I surveyed
A' safe and weel about our nest,
An' them quiet feath'ring laid!—
Och! Robin—this sobbin
Forgie, for to the scenes
I draw now, that gnaw now,
My heart wi' wringing pains.

“This morn as soon as it grew light,
Baith through the glen we took our flight,
And soon my neb I filled;
Some dreadfu' hurling noise I heard,
And pale forebodings made me feared,
That a' my hopes were killed.
I flighter't hame; but och! dread scene!
Whose horror crushed my breath:
The brae had fa'n huge to the plain,
And dashed them a' to death.
Ye heavens, my grievings
Ye might have ceased to flow,
Me crashing and dashing
With them to shades below.

“Nae mair I'll through the valley flee,
And gather worms wi' blissfu' glee,
To feed my chirping young;
Nae mair wi' Tam himsel' I'll rove,
Nor shall e'er joy throughout the grove,
Flow frae my wretched tongue;
But lanely, lanely aye I'll hap,
'Mang auld stane-dykes and braes,
Till some ane roar down on my tap,
And end my joyless days.”
So slowly and lowly
Araise the hapless Wren,
While crying and sighing,
Remurmured through the glen.