Poem by Robert Tannahill

The Fareweel

Accuse me not, inconstant fair,
   Of being false to thee,
For I was true, would still been so,
   Hadst thou been true to me.
But when I knew thy plighted lips
   Once to a rival's prest,
Love-smothered independence rose,
   And spurned thee from my breast.

The fairest flower in Nature's field
   Conceals the rankling thorn;
So thou, sweet flower! as false as fair,
   This once kind heart hath torn.
'Twas mine to prove the fellest pangs
   That slighted love can feel;
'Tis thine to weep that one rash act,
   Which bids this long fareweel.

1. The Lass o’ Arranteenie
2. Gloomy Winter's Now Awa'
3. Craigie Lea
4. Thou Bonnie Wood o' Craigielee
5. Our Bonny Scots Lads

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