SONG. Tune-' ROSLIN CASTLE.' I. THE gloomy night is gath'ring fast, II. The Autumn mourns her rip'ning corn By early Winter's ravage torn; Across her placid, azure sky, She sees the scowling tempest fly: III. 'Tis not the surging billow's roar, IV. Farewell, old Coila's hills and dales, Her heathy moors and winding vales; The scenes where wretched fancy roves, Pursuing past, unhappy loves! Farewell, Farewell, my friends! Farewell, my foes! My peace with these, my love with thoseThe bursting tears my heart declare, Farewell the bonnie banks of Ayr! VOL. III. SONG. |