
Robert Burns, 1791
|
O sad and heavy, should I part, But for her sake, sae far awa; Unknowing what my way may thwart, My native land sae far awa.
2. Thou that of a' things Maker art, |
3. How true is love to pure desert! Like mine for her sae far awa; And nocht can heal my bosom's smart, While, oh, she is sae far awa!
4. Nane other love, nane other dart, |

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