Marion Angus > Sun & candlelight

Waater o Dye
Waater o’ Dye, whaur ye rin clear
I hear the cry—sae aft I hear—
O’ ane wha lauched and lo’ed and sinned
And noo gangs sheda?less as wind.
Wi’ her I traivel, straucht an’ sure,
To the grey clachan yont the muir,
Hapt in the breckan and the whin,
Whaur dwalt the forbears o’ my kin.
She gars me seek on Wirran’s hill
The fern that sains the hert frae ill;
She p’ints whaur noddin’ foxgloves stan’
Wi’ heids a’ turned tae elfinlan’;
Syne queer auld-farrand tunes we’ll sing
Amang the heather and the ling.
Waater o’ Dye, whaur ye rin still
On me she warks her auncient will;
What I hae niver kent, I ken—
The feel o’ babes, the luve o’ men.
The sea-gaun bird forebodes me grief,
I moorn at sicht o’ fa’in’ leaf;
Intil the clood I luik, bricht-e’ed,
For wings o’ Deith abune ma held.
An’ aye she bauds me for her ain,
Flesh o’ her flesh, bane o’ her bane—
Some lang-deid wumman o’ my kin—
Waater o Dye, hoo still ye rin.
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