Ae Fond Kiss, And Then We Sever

     Tune—­“Rory Dall’s Port.”

     Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
     Ae fareweel, alas, for ever! 
     Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee,
     Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee. 
     Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
     While the star of hope she leaves him? 
     Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me;
     Dark despair around benights me.

     I’ll ne’er blame my partial fancy,
     Naething could resist my Nancy: 
     But to see her was to love her;
     Love but her, and love for ever. 
     Had we never lov’d sae kindly,
     Had we never lov’d sae blindly,
     Never met—­or never parted,
     We had ne’er been broken-hearted.

     Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest! 
     Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest! 
     Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
     Peace, Enjoyment, Love and Pleasure! 
     Ae fond kiss, and then we sever! 
     Ae fareweeli alas, for ever! 
     Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee,
     Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee.

Behold The Hour, The Boat, Arrive

     Behold the hour, the boat, arrive! 
     My dearest Nancy, O fareweel! 
     Severed frae thee, can I survive,
     Frae thee whom I hae lov’d sae weel?

     Endless and deep shall be my grief;
     LNae ray of comfort shall I see,
     But this most precious, dear belief,
     That thou wilt still remember me!

     Alang the solitary shore
     Where flitting sea-fowl round me cry,
     Across the rolling, dashing roar,
     I’ll westward turn my wishful eye.

     “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?”

Thou Gloomy December

     Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December! 
     Ance mair I hail thee wi’ sorrow and care;
     Sad was the parting thou makes me remember—­
     Parting wi’ Nancy, oh, ne’er to meet mair!

     Fond lovers’ parting is sweet, painful pleasure,
     Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour;
     But the dire feeling, O farewell for ever! 
     Is anguish unmingled, and agony pure!

     Wild as the winter now tearing the forest,
     Till the last leaf o’ the summer is flown;
     Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom,
     Till my last hope and last comfort is gone.

     Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December,
     Still shall I hail thee wi’ sorrow and care;
     For sad was the parting thou makes me remember,
     Parting wi’ Nancy, oh, ne’er to meet mair.

My Native Land Sae Far Awa