Explore "Ailsie, My Bairn" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Lie in my arms, Ailsie, my bairn, -- / Lie in my arms and dinna greit; / Long time been past syn I kenned you last, / But my harte been allwais the same, my swete.
Ailsie, I colde not say you ill, / For out of the mist of your bitter tears, / And the prayers that rise from your bonnie eyes / Cometh a promise of oder yeres.