Lament for Culloden

By Robert Burns

1759-1796


THE lovely lass o' Inverness,
         Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
For e'en and morn she cries, 'Alas!'
         And aye the saut tear blin's her e'e:
'Drumossie moor, Drumossie day,
         A waefu' day it was to me!
For there I lost my father dear,
         My father dear and brethren three.

'Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay,
         Their graves are growing green to see;
And by them lies the dearest lad
         That ever blest a woman's e'e!
Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord,
         A bluidy man I trow thou be;
For monie a heart thou hast made sair,
         That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee.'

DayPoems Poem No. 456
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/456.html">Lament for Culloden by Robert Burns</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor

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