Though I were ne'er sae weary.
Chorus.—For oh, her lanely nights are lang!
And oh, her dreams are eerie;
And oh, her window'd heart is sair,
That's absent frae her Dearie!
When I think on the lightsome days
I spent wi' thee, my Dearie;
And now what seas between us roar,
How can I be but eerie?
For oh, &c.
How slow ye move, ye heavy hours;