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THE gloomy night is gath’ring fást,
Loud roars the wild inconstant blast,
Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,
I see 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;
Across her placid, azure fky,
She sees the scowling tempeft ily:
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 surging 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 transpierc'd with many a wound;
These bleed afresh, those 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 these, my love with those
The bursting tears my heart declare,
Farewell, the bonnie banks of Ayr!
FROM thee, Eliza, I must
go, And from my native shore: The cruel fates between us throw
A boundless ocean's roar :
But boundless oceans, roaring wide,
They never, never can divide
My heart and soul from thee:
Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear,
The maid that I adore !
A boding voice is in mine ear,
We part to meet no more !
But the last throb that leaves my heart,
While death stands victor by,
That throb, Eliza, is thy part,
And thine that latest figh!