Song—Forlorn, my love, no comfort here

Forlorn, my Love, no comfort near,
Far, far from thee, I wander here;
Far, far from thee, the fate severe,
  At which I most repine, Love.

Chorus.—o wert thou, Love, but near me!
But near, near, near me,
How kindly thou wouldst cheer me,
  And mingle sighs with mine, Love.

Around me scowls a wintry sky,
Blasting each bud of hope and joy;
And shelter, shade, nor home have I;
  Save in these arms of thine, Love.
            O wert thou, &c.

Cold, alter'd friendship's cruel part,
To poison Fortune's ruthless dart—
Let me not break thy faithful heart,
  And say that fate is mine, Love.
            O wert thou, &c.

But, dreary tho' the moments fleet,
O let me think we yet shall meet;
That only ray of solace sweet,
  Can on thy Chloris shine, Love!
            O wert thou, &c.

Song—Forlorn, my love, no comfort here

by Robert Burns, 1795