Kate Kearny, with The Answer/Sandy Far Awa

​

SANDY FAR AWA.

Tune—Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon

Draw near ye warblers wild, in woe
Convene and aid my mournfu' strain;
Thou wimpling stream in silence flow
While by thy margin I complain.
Ye gaudy flow'rs by Nature blown,
Ye emblems o' the Summer braw,
 ​O hang your heads while I bemoan
My true-love Sandy, far awa.

Alas! frae Scotia's peacefu' shore,
Where blooming first he caught my ee—
Beyond the broad Atlantic's roar,
He roams unknown, afar frae me.
For him wi' grief my bosom's torn!
For him my tears unnumber'd fa!—
In pensive woe, anon I mourn
My true-love Sandy, far awa.

When, in the midnight silent hours,
Bright Fancy's dreams around me rove,
Conducting me to Indian bow'rs,
Or clasping him in some wild grove,
O how with rapture him I hail!
In bliss the sigh of love I draw!
But soon, ah! soon, I wake to wail
My true love Sandy, far awa.

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.