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Song—Behold the hour, etc. (Second Version

by Robert Burns, 1793

Behold the hour, the boat arrive;
  Thou goest, the darling of my heart;
Sever'd from thee, can I survive,
  But Fate has will'd and we must part.
I'll often greet the surging swell,
  Yon distant Isle will often hail:
"E'en here I took the last farewell;
  There, latest mark'd her vanish'd sail."
Along the solitary shore,
  While flitting sea-fowl round me cry,
Across the rolling, dashing roar,
  I'll westward turn my wistful eye:
"Happy thou Indian grove," I'll say,
  "Where now my Nancy's path may be!
While thro' thy sweets she loves to stray,
  O tell me, does she muse on me!"

Published in Poems and Songs of Robert Burns
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