Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.

176 . On the Death of John M’Leod, Esq.

SAD thy tale, thou idle page,

And rueful thy alarms:

Death tears the brother of her love

From Isabella’s arms.

Sweetly deckt with pearly dew

The morning rose may blow;

But cold successive noontide blasts

May lay its beauties low.

Fair on Isabella’s morn

The sun propitious smil’d;

But, long ere noon, succeeding clouds

Succeeding hopes beguil’d.

Fate oft tears the bosom chords

That Nature finest strung;

So Isabella’s heart was form’d,

And so that heart was wrung.

Dread Omnipotence alone

Can heal the wound he gave—

Can point the brimful grief-worn eyes

To scenes beyond the grave.

Virtue’s blossoms there shall blow,

And fear no withering blast;

There Isabella’s spotless worth

Shall happy be at last.