This page has been validated.
2
SAE FAR AWA.
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.
Thou that of a' things Maker art,
That form'd this fair sae far awa:
Gin body strength, then I'll ne'er start
An this my way sae far awa.
How true is love to pure desert,
So love to her, sae far awa:
And nocht can heal my bosom's smart,
While, Oh, she is sae far awa.
Nane other love, nane other dart,
I feel, but her's sae far awa:
But fairer never touch'd a heart
Then her's, the fair sae far awa.
WILT THOU BE MY DEARIE.
Wilt thou be my dearie?
When sorrow wrings thy gentle heart,
O wilt thou let me cheer me;
By the treasure of my soul,
