Though Fate severe may be, Lassie;
Though darkness cloud, at times, my brow,
Yet, here's a health to thee, Lassie!
Yes—here's a health to thee, my love!
All good that e'er hath been, Lassie;
Sweet peace below, and bliss above,
One day of brightest sheen, Lassie!
Yet, ah! I dare not fondly hope
For thee a joy below, Lassie:
And till thou canst with sorrow cope,
Severe will be its blow, Lassie.
We've smiled together—but 'tis past:
We've wept—those days are o'er, Lassie;
'Twas too much happiness to last,
Its loss we now deplore, Lassie.
We mirthful revels yet may keep,
Yet feel the throes of pain, Lassie,
But we, alas! shall smile, and weep
Together ne'er again, Lassie.
Yet sweeter 'tis despairing now
Than e'en to smile at will, Lassie,
With those who 're faithless, and while thou
Remain'st unaltered still, Lassie.
What boots it then, that I repine
At Fortune's stern decree, Lassie?
My every thought is only thine!
My every hope for thee, Lassie!
Come hither, boy! fill up my bowl—
When hearts are wet with wine, Lassie,
And love is wakened in the soul,
The draught's indeed divine, Lassie!
My cup, perhaps, may taste of tears,
But still it sweet will be, Lassie—
Then—here's to unforgotten years,
And here's a health to thee, Lassie!