Anna.
[John Sim.—Air, "Ye banks and braes," &c.]
O fare thee weel, fair Cartha's side,
For ever, ever fare thee weel!
Upon thy banks I've oft enjoy'd
What virtuous love alone can feel.
With Anna as I fondly stray'd,
And mark'd the gowan's hamely mien,
The vi'let blue, the primrose gay,
Enrich'd the joyful fairy scene.
The sun had set, the western clouds
Began to lose their radiance bright,
The mavis' tuneful note was hush'd.
And all proclaim'd approaching night;
Then was the time I fondly pour'd
In Anna's ear my ardent tile,
She blush'd, and oft I fondly thought
That love like mine would soon prevail.
She spoke, she look'd as if she lov'd,
Yet, ah! how false was Anna's heart!
Though heavenly fair her angel form,—
How fraught with guile, how full of art!
Now far from Anna, far from home,
By Lugar's stream I sadly mourn;
I think on scenes I still must love,
On scenes that never can return.
O fare thee weel, fair Cartha's banks,
And Anna—O!—a long fareweel!
Nor ever may that pang be thine,
Which my sad heart so oft doth feel.
But happy, happy may'st thou be,
By fairy scenes on Cartha's side,
And may a better far than me,
Through life be thy true love and guide.