Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.

533 . Song—Forlorn, my love, no comfort here

FORLORN, my Love, no comfort near,

Far, far from thee, I wander here;

Far, far from thee, the fate severe,

At which I most repine, Love.

Chorus.—O wert thou, Love, but near me!

But near, near, near me,

How kindly thou wouldst cheer me,

And mingle sighs with mine, Love.

Around me scowls a wintry sky,

Blasting each bud of hope and joy;

And shelter, shade, nor home have I;

Save in these arms of thine, Love.

O wert thou, &c.

Cold, alter’d friendship’s cruel part,

To poison Fortune’s ruthless dart—

Let me not break thy faithful heart,

And say that fate is mine, Love.

O wert thou, &c.

But, dreary tho’ the moments fleet,

O let me think we yet shall meet;

That only ray of solace sweet,

Can on thy Chloris shine, Love!

O wert thou, &c.