WHEN THE DEW IS FALLING

The Database of Ornament

                        WHEN the dew is falling
                        I have heard a calling
                        Of aerial sweet voices o’er the low green hill;
                        And when the moon is dying
                        I have heard a crying
                        Where the brown burn slippeth thro’ the
                        hollows green and still.

                        And O the sorrow upon me,
                        The grey grief upon me,
                        For a voice that whispered once, and now for aye is still!
                        O heart forsaken, calling
                        When the dew is falling.
                        To the one that comes not ever o’er the low green hill!

                                                                                          FIONA MACLEOD.