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And let nae starnia, glintin’ hi'.
Abate the horror o‘ thy reign,
But sunk in drearie woe, like me,
Let Nature wrapt in gloom remain.
Perhaps some youth, than me more dear,
Has smooth’d his way by tender art;
Has sigh’d his passion in thy ear,
And found submission to thy heart.
Then a' ye dreams o’ joy depart,
For oh, this throbbing heart is sair!
Nae future hour will joy impart—
Nae future scene will ease my care.
[LIVELY]
But na—she smiles! Maria smiles
As blythe as morning's risin’ ray—
Nae happier youth, wi artfu’ wiles.
Has lur’d her maiden heart away.
Then joy resume thy welcome sway,
And ever reign within my breast—
Let fortune send me weel or wae,
I tent na—since wi’ Mary blest.
