604 JAMES CLERK MAXWELL. 



II. 



For the lambs will soon be here, 



In the fresh spring-tide ; 

 As lambs come every year 



On our ain burnside. 

 Poor things, they will not stay, 

 But we will keep the day 

 When first we saw them play 

 On our ain burnside. 



in. 



We will watch the budding trees 



In the fresh spring-tide, 

 While the murmurs of the breeze 



Through the branches glide. 

 Where the mavis builds her nest, 

 And finds both work and rest, 

 In the bush she loves the best, 

 On our ain burnside. 



IV. 



And the life we then shall lead 



In the fresh spring-tide, 

 Will make thee mine indeed, 

 Though the world be wide. 

 No stranger's blame or praise 

 Shall turn us from the ways 

 That brought us happy days 

 On our ain burnside. 



" WHY, WHEN OUR SUN SHINES CLEAREST." 



1858. 



WHY, when our sun shines clearest, 

 Why, when our hopes seem nearest, 

 Why, when our life feels dearest, 

 Rises a secret pain 



