"Adieu!" I proudly cried.
I fled! nor Ellen hae I seen,
Sin' that too fatal day:
My "bosom's laird" sits heavy here,
And Hope's fled far away.
Sin' that too fatal day:
My "bosom's laird" sits heavy here,
And Hope's fled far away.
Care, darkly brooding, bodes a storm,
I'm Sorrow's child indeed;
She stamps her image on my form,
I wear the mourning weed!
I'm Sorrow's child indeed;
She stamps her image on my form,
I wear the mourning weed!
