"The grass it is wet, John, the wind it is keen,
Our claes they are worn, and our shune they are thin;
Our shune they are thin, and the waters come in;
And oh! for youth's bonnie green summer again,
Summer again, summer again,
And oh! for youth's bonnie green summer again.
"There was joy in our youth, John, at wish's command,
We danced and we sang, and we ilka gate ran,
But now dule and sorrow's on ilka hand;
And oh! for youth's bonnie green summer again,
Summer again, summer again,
And oh! for youth's bonnie green summer again.
"There's graves in yon howf, John, and hillocks o' green,
Where our bairns lie sleeping that left us alane,
And they're waiting for us till we gae to creep in;
And alas! for youth's bonnie green summer again,
Summer again, summer again,
And alas! for youth's bonnie green summer again."
When _she_ had crooned her chant, I heard _him_ say,
With sobbing voice and deep heart-heaving sigh,
"Dry up thae tears, my Jean, for things away,
Time's but a watch-tick in eternity;
We darena sing of earth, but lift our prayer
To Him whose promises are never vain,
That we may dwell in yonder Eden fair,
And see youth's summer blooming green again."
Then rose a prayer to Bethel's Lord and King
That He would lead them through this vale of woe,
And to the promised land his children bring,
Where Babel's streams in living waters flow.
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