Lass of Inverness

Tune--"_Lass of Inverness._"

[As Burns passed slowly over the moor of Culloden, in one of his
Highland tours, the lament of the Lass of Inverness, it is said, rose
on his fancy: the first four lines are partly old.]

I.
    The lovely lass o' Inverness,
      Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
    For e'en and morn, she cries, alas!
      And ay the saut tear blin's her e'e:
    Drumossie moor--Drumossie day--
      A waefu' day it was to me!
    For there I lost my father dear,
      My father dear, and brethren three.
II.
    Their winding sheet the bluidy clay,
      Their graves are growing green to see:
    And by them lies the dearest lad
      That ever blest a woman's e'e!
    Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord,
      A bluidy man I trow thou be;
    For mony a heart thou host made sair,
      That ne'er did wrong to thine or thee.