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Wells O' Wearie (Sacred Well) — Folklore

Wearie Well

In a saft summer gloamin,
In yon dowie dell,
It was there we twa first met,
By Wearie's cauld well,
We sat on the brume bench,
And look'd in the burn,
But sidelang we look'd on,
Ilk ither in turn.

The corn craik was chirmimg,
His sad eerie cry,
And the wee stars were dreaming,
Their path through the sky,
The burn babbled freely,
Its love to ilk flower,
But we heard and saw nought,
In that blessed hour.

We heard and we saw nought,
Above or around,
We felt that oor love lived,
And loathed idle sound,
I gazed on your sweet face,
Tull tears filled my e'e,
And they drapped on your wee loof -
A warlds wealth to me.

Now the winter's snaw is fa'ing,
On bare holim and lea,
And the cauld wind is drippin,
Ilk leaf aff the tree,
But the snaw fa's not faister,
Nor leaf disna part,
Sae sune frae the bough, as
Faith fades in your heart.

Ye've waled oot another,
Your bridegroom to be;
But can his heart love sae,
As mine luvit thee?
Ye'll get biggings and maulings,
And monie braw claes;
But they a' winna buy back,
The peace o' past days.

Fareweel and for ever,
My first luve and laist,
May the joys be to come -
Mine lies in the past,
In sorrow and sadness,
This hears fa's once;
But light, as thy live, may
It fleet over thee.

Motherwell
Whistle - Binkie
The Piper Of The Party.

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