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Thou Lingering Star
(Robert Burns)
Thou ling`ring star, with less`ning ray,
That lov`st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usher`st in the day
My Mary from my soul was torn.
O Mary dear departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest ?
See`st thou thy over lowly laid?
Hear`st thou the groans that rend this breast?
That sacred hour can I forget?
Can I forget the hallow`d grove,
Where, by the winding Ayr, we met, `
To live one day of parting love ?
Eternity cannot efface
Those records dear of transports past,
Thy image at our last embrace-
Ah! little thought we`twas our last!
Ayr, gurgling, kiss`d his pebbled shore,
O`erhung with wild-woods, thickening green;
The fragrant birch and hawthorn hoar,
`Twin`d amorous round the raptur`d scene;
The flowers sprang wanton to be prest,
The birds sang love on every spray,
Till too, too soon, the glowing west,
Proclaim`d the speed of winged day.
Still o`er these scenes my mem`ry wakes,
And fondly broods with miser-care;
Time but th`impression stronger makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear.
O Mary! dear departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest?
See`st thou thy lover lowly laid?
Hear`st thou the groans that rend his breast?
tune: Capt`n Cook`s Death (274)
filename[ LNGRSTAR
play.exe LNGRSTAR
ARB
===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY===

Thou Lingering Star
(Robert Burns)
Thou ling`ring star, with less`ning ray,
That lov`st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usher`st in the day
My Mary from my soul was torn.
O Mary dear departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest ?
See`st thou thy over lowly laid?
Hear`st thou the groans that rend this breast?
That sacred hour can I forget?
Can I forget the hallow`d grove,
Where, by the winding Ayr, we met, `
To live one day of parting love ?
Eternity cannot efface
Those records dear of transports past,
Thy image at our last embrace-
Ah! little thought we`twas our last!
Ayr, gurgling, kiss`d his pebbled shore,
O`erhung with wild-woods, thickening green;
The fragrant birch and hawthorn hoar,
`Twin`d amorous round the raptur`d scene;
The flowers sprang wanton to be prest,
The birds sang love on every spray,
Till too, too soon, the glowing west,
Proclaim`d the speed of winged day.
Still o`er these scenes my mem`ry wakes,
And fondly broods with miser-care;
Time but th`impression stronger makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear.
O Mary! dear departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest?
See`st thou thy lover lowly laid?
Hear`st thou the groans that rend his breast?
tune: Capt`n Cook`s Death (274)
filename[ LNGRSTAR
play.exe LNGRSTAR
ARB
===DOCUMENT BOUNDARY===

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