The Tear-Drop
the tear-drop
wae is my heart, and the tear's in my e'e;
lang, lang has 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 sair hae i pruv'd;
but this 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 hae been—
down by yon stream, and yon bonie castle-green;
for there he is wand'ring and musing on me,
wha wad soon dry the tear-drop that clings to my e'e.
wae is my heart, and the tear's in my e'e;
lang, lang has 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 sair hae i pruv'd;
but this 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 hae been—
down by yon stream, and yon bonie castle-green;
for there he is wand'ring and musing on me,
wha wad soon dry the tear-drop that clings to my e'e.