Song.

Oh! now ye're far awa my love,
Ye're far awa frae me,
O'er woodland glens, and rocky dens,
And o'er the raging sea.
I stand upon the sandy shore,
The lofty hills behind,
I spy the distant ship afar,
That's driven with the wind.

I see the waves around her rise,
Ten thousand billows roar;
The foaming surges lash the skies,
Behind her and before.
page 90 Unto the winds I give a sigh,
Unto the waves a tear;
Up to the skies I send my cry,
For her my dearest dear.

Kind Providence, oh! hear my voice,
Oh! wilt thou her life save,
Oh! keep her from the sunken rocks,
And from a wat'ry grave.
For though she's borne awa frae me,
Across the raging main,
Our hapless loves may yet revive,
Were we to meet again.