Verse > Anthologies > Francis T. Palgrave, ed. > The Golden Treasury
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Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury.  1875.
 
R. Burns
 
CXXV. Lament for Culloden
 
THE lovely lass o' Inverness, 
  Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; 
For e'en to morn she cries, "Alas!" 
  And aye the saut tear blin's her e'e: 
  
"Drumossie moor—Drumossie day—         5
  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 growin' green to see;  10
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 mony a heart thou has made sair  15
  That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee!" 
 
 
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