Page:Kate Kearny, with The answer.pdf/4

 4 O hang your heads while I bemoan

My true-love Sandy, far awa.

Alas! frae Scotia's peacefu' shore,

Where blooming first he caught my ee-

Beyond the broad Atlantic's roar,

He roams unknown, afar frae me.

For him wi' grief my bosom's torn!

For him my tears unnumber'd fa!

In pensive woe, anon I mourn

My true-love Sandy, far awa.

When, in the midnight silent hours,

Bright Fancy's dreams around me rove,

Conducting me to Indian bow'rs,

Or clasping him in some wild grove,

O how with rapture him I hail!

In bliss the sigh of love I draw!

But soon, ah! soon, I wake to wail

My true love Sandy, far awa.

THE TEAR. beds of snow the moon-beam slept,

And chilly was the midnight gloom,

When by the damp grave Ellen wept;

Sweet maid! it was her Lindor's tomb.

A warm tear gush'd, the wintry air

Coageal'd it as it flow'd away;