Goe Deed Wi' Smylis the Cheek!

Goe deed wi' smylis the cheek,Goe fill wi' licht the eye—O vain when sorrows seekThe fontis of bliss to drie!

Quhan Hope hath pyned away,Quhan carke and care haif sprung,Quhan hert hath faun a preyTo grief that hed nae tongue;O then it is nae tymeTo feinzie quliat we fele,Or wi' ane merrie chime,To droun the solemne pealQuhilk ringis dreir and dul,Quhan hert and eyne ar ful.

Nae joy is thair for meIn lyf againe to knowe—Nae plesuir can I seeIn its fais and fleetinge schew!—

Lyk wyld and fearful wasteOf wavis and bollen sand,Apperis the path I've tracitInwith my natif land:Fra it I must depairt,And fra al quhilk hed mie hert.

Fareweil to kith and kin,Fareweil to luve untrew,Fareweil to burn and lin,Fareweil to lift sua blew—Fareweil to banck and brae,Fareweil to sang and glee—Fareweil to pastyme gay,Quhilk ance delytit me—Fareweil thou sunny strand,Fareweil ance kinde Scotland!

Fresch flouirs beare mie frend,Unto mie earlie graive,Thair bid them nevir dwyne,But ower mie headstane waive;Perchance to sume they'll wakeRemembrance o' mie dome—And though fading, they maye makeLess lonesum-lyk mie tombe—

Sins they will emblems beOf thy luvinge sympathye.

Now fare weil day's dear licht—Now fareweil frend and fae—Hail to the starrie nicht,Whair travailit saul maun gae!