Page:Excellent collection of popular songs (1).pdf/8

 Come counsel, dear tittie, don’t tarry;

I’ll gie you my bonny black hen,

Gif ye will advise me to marry

'The lad I lo’e dearly, Tam Glen.

’Twas 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 now lies lost on a billow,

Far, far at sea.

All was dark, when 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 pray’r—clos’d her eyes,

But the phanton still haunted her pillow;

While in terror she echoed his cries,

As struggling he sunk'in a billow,

Far, far at sea.