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. Sleep’st Thou, or Wak’st Thou
2. Simmer’s a Pleasant Time
3. It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonnie Face
4. The Bonnie Wee Thing
5. Castle Gordon

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