On Chloris Being Ill.

A poem by Robert Burns

Tune - "Ay wakin', O."



I.

Long, long the night,
Heavy comes the morrow,
While my soul's delight
Is on her bed of sorrow.

Can I cease to care?
Can I cease to languish?
While my darling fair
Is on the couch of anguish?

II.

Every hope is fled,
Every fear is terror;
Slumber even I dread,
Every dream is horror.

III.

Hear me, Pow'rs divine!
Oh, in pity hear me!
Take aught else of mine,
But my Chloris spare me!
Long, long the night,
Heavy comes the morrow,
While my soul's delight
Is on her bed of sorrow.

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