Thro’ the Lawlands, o’er the border,
Weel, my babie, may thou furder:
Herry the louns o’ the laigh countree,
Syne to the Highlands hame to me.
CLXXI.
WAE IS MY HEART.
Tune—“Wae is my heart.”
[Composed, it is said, at the request of Clarke, the musician, who felt, or imagined he felt, some pangs of heart for one of the loveliest young ladies in Nithsdale, Phillis M’Murdo.]
I.
Wae is my heart, and the tear’s in my e’e;
Lang, lang, joy’s been a stranger to me;
Forsaken and friendless, my burden I bear,
And the sweet voice of pity ne’er sounds in my ear.
II.
Love, thou hast pleasures, and deep hae I loved;
Love, thou hast sorrows, and sair hae I proved;
But this bruised heart that now bleeds in my breast,
I can feel by its throbbings will soon be at rest.