’Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
IV.
And fare thee weel, my only luve!
And fare thee weel a-while!
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.
CL.
LOUIS, WHAT RECK I BY THEE.
Tune—“Louis, what reck I by thee.”
[The Jeannie of this very short, but very clever song, is Mrs. Burns. Her name has no chance of passing from the earth if impassioned verse can preserve it.]
I.
Louis, what reck I by thee,
Or Geordie on his ocean?
Dyvor, beggar loons to me—
I reign in Jeannie’s bosom.