Love Long Lost

 

Alone he sat under the pine,

Slowly was his demeanor

Although his stillness belied his nature,

His cold eyes said not he was a dreamer.

The rain fell and the day turned dark,

But still the traveler stayed,

For lost love and haunted memory,

Around him, the shadows bayed.

Through the Highlands and the Islands,

The weary, misty morns

He had searched and he had bled

All for his maid’s touch torn.

He sat under the pine,

With his slow demeanor

And though his stillness belied his nature,

His cold eyes spoke of a long-lost dreamer.

But fear not, ye weary traveler,

Even Scottish clouds have linings

And here she waits yet for you,

Heart lost with cold beguiling.

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