Because it is October and I am dreaming of Scotland. Something from Robert Burns
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 ages arms were warring,
O'er the swelling, drumlie wave.
Such was my life's deceitful morning,
Such the pleasures I enjoy'd;
But lang or noon, loud tempests storming
A' my flowery bliss destroyed.
Tho' fickle Fortune has deciev'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.