Poem by Robert Burns

How Lang and Dreary

How lang and dreary is the night,
  When I am frae my dearie!
I restless lie frae e’en to morn,
  Tho’ I were ne’er sae weary.

    For oh, her lanely nights are lang;
      And oh, her dreams are eerie;
    And oh, her widow’d heart is sair,
      That’s absent frae her dearie.

When I think on the lightsome days
  I spent wi’ thee, my dearie,
And now that seas between us roar,
  How can I be but eerie!

How slow ye move, ye heavy hours;
  The joyless day how drearie!
It wasna sae ye glinted by,
  When I was wi’ my dearie.

1. Blythe Was She
2. Lines Written under the Picture of Miss Burns
3. Lovely Davies
4. It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonnie Face
5. The Lass of Ecclefechan

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