How Long and Dreary is the Night

_To a Gaelic air._

[Composed for the Museum: the air of this affecting strain is true
Highland: Burns, though not a musician, had a fine natural taste in
the matter of national melodies.]

I.
    How long and dreary is the night
      When I am frae my dearie!
    I sleepless lie frae e'en to morn,
      Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.
    I sleepless lie frae e'en to morn,
      Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.
II.
    When I think on the happy days
      I spent wi' you, my dearie,
    And now what lands between us lie,
      How can I but be eerie!
    And now what lands between us lie,
      How can I be but eerie!
III.
    How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,
      As ye were wae and weary!
    It was na sae ye glinted by,
      When I was wi' my dearie.
    It was na sae ye glinted by,
      When I was wi' my dearie.