Poem by Robert Burns

* * *

When I think on the happy days
  	I spent wi’ you, my dearie;
And now what lands between us lie,
  	How can I be but eerie!

How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,
  	As ye were wae and weary!
It was na sae ye glinted by
  	When I was wi’ my dearie.

1. Their Groves O’ sweet Myrtle
2. The Bonnie Wee Thing
3. As Down the Burn They Took Their Way
4. Gala Water
5. Stay My Charmer

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