Explore "On the Death of John M'Leod, Esq" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Brother to a young Lady, a particular friend of the Author's.
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.