Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
533 . SongForlorn, my love, no comfort here
F
Far, far from thee, I wander here;
Far, far from thee, the fate severe,
At which I most repine, Love.
But near, near, near me, How kindly thou wouldst cheer me, And mingle sighs with mine, Love. Blasting each bud of hope and joy; And shelter, shade, nor home have I; Save in these arms of thine, Love. O wert thou, &c. To poison Fortune’s ruthless dart— Let me not break thy faithful heart, And say that fate is mine, Love. O wert thou, &c. O let me think we yet shall meet; That only ray of solace sweet, Can on thy Chloris shine, Love! O wert thou, &c.