Robert Burns

* * *

MUSING on the roaring ocean
  Which divides my love and me;
Wearying Heaven in warm devotion,
  For his weal where’er he be;

Hope and fear’s alternate billow
  Yielding late to nature’s law;
Whispering spirits round my pillow
  Talk of him that’s far awa.

Ye whom sorrow never wounded,
  Ye who never shed a tear,
Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded,
  Gaudy day to you is dear.

Gentle night, do thou befriend me;
  Downy sleep, the curtain draw;
Spirits kind, again attend me,
  Talk of him that’s far awa!