Page:Tak your auld cloak about ye (2).pdf/8

8 Tho' winter wild in tempest toil'd,

Ne'er summer sun was half sae

Than a' the pride that loads the tide,

And crosses o'er the sultry line;

Than kingly robes, than crowns globes,

Heaven gave me more—it gave thee mine.

While day and night can bring

Or nature aught of pleasure give;

While joys above my mind can move

For thee, and thee alone, I live!

When that grim fee of life below

Comes in between to make us part;

The iron hand that breaks our band,

It breaks my bliss, it breaks my.

