25 Scottish Songs, Op. 108: No. 2, Sunset
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Lyrics
The sun upon the wild low hill
In Ettrick's vale is sinking sweet
The westland wind is hush and still
The lake lies sleeping at my feet
Yet not the landscape to mine eye
Bears those bright hues that once it wore
The evening with her richest dye
Flames o'er the hills on Ettrick's shore
With listless look along the plain
I see 'tween silver current glide
And coldly mark the holy fane
Of Melrose rise in ruined pride
The quiet lake, the bonnie air
The hill, the stream, the tower, the tree
Are they still such as once they were?
Or is the dreary change in me?