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　　A Mother's Lament

　　For the Death of Her Son.

　　Fate gave the word, the arrow sped,

　　And pierc'd my darling's heart;

　　And with him all the joys are fled

　　Life can to me impart.

　　By cruel hands the sapling drops,

　　In dust dishonour'd laid;

　　So fell the pride of all my hopes,

　　My age's future shade.

　　The mother-linnet in the brake

　　Bewails her ravish'd young;

　　So I, for my lost darling's sake,

　　Lament the live-day long.

　　Death, oft I've feared thy fatal blow.

　　Now, fond, I bare my breast;

　　O, do thou kindly lay me low

　　With him I love, at rest! Poems and Songs of Robert Burns