Behold The Hour, The Boat, Arrive |
Robert Burns, 1793
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?
2. Endless and deep shall be my grief; | 3. Alang the solitary shore Where flitting sea-fowl round me cry, Across the rolling, dashing roar, I'll westward turn my wishful eye.
4. "Happy thou Indian grove," I'll say, |