Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
497 . SongThe Tear-dropWae is my heart
Lang, lang has Joy been a stranger to me: Forsaken and friendless, my burden I bear, And the sweet voice o’ Pity ne’er sounds in my ear. Love, thou hast sorrows, and sair hae I pruv’d; But this bruisèd heart that now bleeds in my breast, I can feel, by its throbbings, will soon be at rest. Down by yon stream, and yon bonie castle-green; For there he is wand’ring and musing on me, Wha wad soon dry the tear-drop that clings to my e’e.