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.