 | The Poetry of Robert Burns |  |
34
BEHOLD THE HOUR
FIRST SET
I
Behold the hour, the boat, arrive!My dearest Nancy, O, farewell!
Sever'd frae thee, can I survive,
Frae thee whom I hae lov'd sae well?
II
Endless and deep shall be my grief,Nae ray of comfort shall I see,
But this most precious, dear belief,
That thou wilt still remember me.
III
Along the solitary shore,Where flitting sea-fowl round me cry,
Across the rolling, dashing roar,
I'll westward turn my wistful eye.
IV
‘Happy thou Indian grove,’ I'll say,‘Where now my Nancy's path shall be!
While thro' your sweets she holds her way,
O, tell me, does she muse on me?’
| The Poetry of Robert Burns | |