Six Excellent Songs (Newton Stewart)/Clarinda

For other versions of this work, see Clarinda (Burns).
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CLARINDA

Clarinda, mistress of my soul,
The measured time is run!
The wretch beneath the dreary pole,
So marks his latest sun.

To what dark cave of frozen night
Shall poor Sylvander hie;
Depr'v'd of thee, his life and light,
The sun of all his joy:

We part,—but by these precious drops,
That fill thy lovely eyes!
No other light shall guide my steps.
Till thy bright beams arise.

She, the fair sun of all her sex,
Has blest my glorious day:
And shall a glimmering planet fix
My worship to its ray?

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