How lang and dreary

Robert Burns (1759–1796)

How lang and dreary is the night,When I am frae my dearie;I restless lie frae e'en to morn,Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.

Chorus.For oh, her lanely nights are lang;And oh, her dreams are eerie ;And oh, her widow'd heart is sair,That's absent frae her dearie.

When I think on the lightsome daysI spent wi' thee, my dearie,And now that seas between us roar,How can I be but eerie !For oh, &c.

How slow ye move, ye heavy hoursThe joyless day how drearie!It wasna sae ye glinted by,When I was wi' my dearie.For oh, &c.