Even such is Time, which takes in trust our youth, our joys, and all we have, and pays us but with age and dust; Who in the dark and silent grave, when we have wandered all our ways, shuts up the story of our days: And from which earth, and grave, and dust, The Lord shall raise me up, I trust...

Flow gently sweet Lilly, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays;
My silent friend asleep by thy murmuring stream.
Flow gently, sweet friend, disturb not my dreams.

Another Dream:
Yestreen I had a pint o'wine,
A place where body saw na;
Yestreen lay on this breast o'mine
The gowden locks of you my silent friend.