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I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing Gaily in the sunny beam, List'ning to the wild birds singing, By a falling, chrystal stream; Streight the sky grew black and daring, Thro' the woods the whirlwinds rave; Trees with aged arms were warring, O'er the swelling, drumlie wave. Such was my life's deceitful morning, Such the pleasures I enjoyed; But lang or noon, loud tempests storming A' my flowery bliss destroy'd. Tho' fickle Fortune has deceiv'd me, She promis'd fair, and perform'd but ill, Of mony a joy and hope bereav'd me, I bear a heart shall support me still.