Home  »  Poems of Places An Anthology in 31 Volumes  »  Phemie Irving

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.


Phemie Irving

By Allan Cunningham (1784–1842)

GAY is thy glen, Corrie,

With all thy groves flowering;

Green is thy glen, Corrie,

When July is showering;

And sweet is yon wood where

The small birds are bowering,

For there dwells the sweet one

Whom I am adoring.

Her round neck is whiter

Than winter when snowing;

Her meek voice is milder

Than Ae in its flowing;

The glad ground yields music

When she goes by the river;

One kind glance would charm me

For ever and ever.

The proud and the wealthy

To Phemie are bowing;

No looks of love win they

With sighing and suing.

Far away maun I stand

With my rude wooing;

She ’s a floweret too lovely

To bloom for my pu’ing.

O, were I yon violet

On which she is walking!

O, were I yon small bird

To which she is talking!

Or yon rose in her hand,

With its ripe, ruddy blossom,

Or some pure, gentle thought

To be blest with her bosom!