Winter: A Dirge
~Robert Burns (1781)
The wintry west extends his blast,
_ And hail and rain does blaw;
Or the stormy north sends driving forth
_ The blinding sleet and snaw:
While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down,
_ And roars frae bank to brae;
And bird and beast in covert rest,
_ And pass the heartless day.
“The sweeping blast, the sky o’ercast,”
_ The joyless winter day
Let others fear, to me more dear
_ Than all the pride of May:
The tempest’s howl, it soothes my soul,
_ My griefs it seems to join;
The leafless trees my fancy please,
_ Their fate resembles mine!
Thou Power Supreme, whose mighty scheme
_ These woes of mine fulfil,
Here firm I rest; they must be best,
_ Because they are Thy will!
Then all I want—O do Thou grant
_ This one request of mine!—
Since to enjoy Thou dost deny,
_ Assist me to resign.
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