A Highland Regiment/To —

ou have destroyed my early loves. The grasses wet with dew. And hills upon whose gentle breast My careless boyhood grew. I have no happiness at all Except to be with you.

I have forgotten all the words And laughter of my friends, The little inns that are like homes. The road that dips and bends ; I hear them like a far-off song That fails at last and ends.

It's little use for us to grieve For things that cannot be ; You can't give back the happiness You took away from me. Give me yourself, for night and day It's only you I see.

, 1913