The Winter Of Life（1 / 1）

the winter of life

but lately seen in gladsome green,

the woods rejoic'd the day,

thro' gentle showers, the laughing flowers

in double pride were gay:

but now our joys are fled

on winter blasts awa;

yet maiden may, in rich array,

again shall bring them a'.

but my white pow, nae kindly thowe

shall melt the snaws of age;

my trunk of eild, but buss or beild,

sinks in time's wintry rage.

oh, age has weary days,

and nights o' sleepless pain:

thou golden time, o' youthfu' prime,

why comes thou not again!