Hurrah for the Bonnets of Blue (Glasgow, 1829)/The Captive Maniac
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THE CAPTIVE MANIAC.
They bid me sleep, they bid me pray
They say my heart is warpt and wrung—
I cannot sleep on Highland brae;
I cannot pray in Highlang tongue.
But were I now where Allan glides,
Or heard my native Devon's tides
So sweetly would I rest and pray
That heaven would close my wintry day!
They say my heart is warpt and wrung—
I cannot sleep on Highland brae;
I cannot pray in Highlang tongue.
But were I now where Allan glides,
Or heard my native Devon's tides
So sweetly would I rest and pray
That heaven would close my wintry day!
’Twas thus my hair they bade me braid.
They bade me to church repair;
It was my bridal morn they said.
And my true love would meet me there:
But woe betide the cruel guile,
That drown'd in blood the morning smile!
And woe betide the fairy dream!
I only wakd to sob and scream.
They bade me to church repair;
It was my bridal morn they said.
And my true love would meet me there:
But woe betide the cruel guile,
That drown'd in blood the morning smile!
And woe betide the fairy dream!
I only wakd to sob and scream.