Wae is my heart, and the tear’s in my e’e;
Lang, langhas Joy been a stranger to me:
Forsaken and friendless, my burden I bear,
And the sweet voice o’Pity ne’er sounds in my ear.
Love thou hast pleasures, and deep hae I luv’d;
Love, thou hast sorrows, and sairhae I pruv’d;
Butthis bruised heart that now bleeds in my breast,
I can feel, by its throbbings, will soon be at rest.
Oh, if I were-where happy I haebeen-
Down byyon stream, and yonboniecastle-green;
For there he is wand’ring and musing on me,
Whawadsoon drythe tear-drop that clings to my e’e.