THE MARINER.
SONG XLV.
1
Ye winds that kiss the grove's green tops,
And sweep the mountains hoar,
Oh softly stir the ocean waves,
Which sleep along the shore;
For my love sails the fairest ship,
That wantons on the sea,
Oh, bend his masts with balmy gales,
And waft him home to me.
2
Forsake nae mair the lonesome glen,
Clear burn and hawthorn grove,
Where first we walked in gloaming gray,
And sighed and looked of love;
For faithless is the ocean wave,
And faithless is the wind,
Then leave nae mair my heart to break,
'Mang Scotland's hills behind.
