Forlorn, My Love, No Comfort Near |
Robert Burns, 1795
Forlorn, my Love, no comfort near, Far, far from thee, I wander here; Far, far from thee, the fate severe, At which I most repine, Love. Chorus: O wert thou, Love, but near me! But near, near, near me, How kindly thou wouldst cheer me, And mingle sighs with mine, Love.
2. Around me scowls a wintry sky, |
3. Cold, alter'd friendship's cruel part, To poison Fortune's ruthless dart- Let me not break thy faithful heart, And say that fate is mine, Love. Chorus:
4. But, dreary tho' the moments fleet, |