Come Winter, with thine angry howl,
And raging bend the naked tree;
Thy gloom will foothe my chearless foul,
When Nature all is fad like me!
And maun I fill on Menie doat,
And bear the fcorn that's in her e'e! For it's jet, jet black, an' it's like a hawk, An' it winna let a body be.
THE gloomy night is gathʼring fast,
Loud roars the wild inconftant blast,
Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,
I fee it driving o'er the plain;
The Hunter now has left the moor,
The scatt'red coveys meet secure,
While here I wander, prest with care,
Along the lonely banks of Ayr.
The Autumn mourns her rip'ning corn
By early Winter's ravage torn ;
Acrofs her placid, azure sky,
She fees the fcowling tempeft fly:
Chill runs my blood to hear it rave,
I think upon the stormy wave,
Where many a danger I must dare,
Far from the bonnie banks of Ayr.
'Tis not the furging billow's roar,
'Tis not that fatal, deadly shore;
Tho' Death in ev'ry shape appear,
The Wretched have no more to fear:
But round my heart the ties are bound,
That heart tranfpierc'd with many a wound;
These bleed afresh, thofe ties I tear,
To leave the bonnie banks of Ayr,
Farewell, old Coila's hills and dales,
Her heathy moors and winding vales;
The scenes where wretched Fancy roves,
Pursuing past, unhappy loves!
Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes!
My peace with thefe, my love with thofe
The bursting tears my heart declare,
Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr!
FROM thee, Eliza, I must go,
And from my native fhore:
The cruel fates between us throw
A boundless ocean's roar :
But boundless oceans, roaring wide,
Between my Love and me,
They never, never can divide
My heart and foul from thee:
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