Page:Braes of Balquither.pdf/7

 But now he’s awa, and I dinna ken whare he’s; O gin he was back to his minny and me!

My heart has nae room when I think on my dawty; his dear rosy haffits bring tears in my ee: But now he’s awa, and I dinna ken whar he’s Gin we would ance meet, we’s ne’er part till we die. And O, gin I saw but my bonny Scots callan! Fu’aft has he doudl’d me upon his knee; But now he’s awa, and I dinna ken whar he’s; O gin he was back to his minny and me.

‘Twas at night when the bell had toll’d twelve, And poor Susan was laid on her pillow, In her ear whisper’d some fleeting elve, Your love is now toss’d on a billow, Far, far at sea.

All was dark, as she woke out of breath, Not an object her fears could discover, All was still as the silence of death, Save Fancy, which painted her lover, Far, far at sea.

So she whisper’d a prayer—clos’d her eyes, But the phantom still haunted her pillow,