Marion Angus > Sun & candlelight

Cotton Grasses
Where seldom footstep passes
By the lone lochan’s edge,
Foam-white above the sedge,
I hear the cotton grasses—
Whispering, whispering, whispering,
Now summer days are long,
The burden of a song
Too sorrowful for singing;
Of joyful tears unwept,
Of tenderness unwist,
Of lovers’ lips unkissed
And promised trysts unkept.
Where seldom footstep passes,
So bleak the heath and bare,
In a cold scentless air
The whispering cotton grasses.
Printed in Great Britain by the Riverside Press Limited
Edinburgh