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7
Now in wedlock bands I'm fastened
unto the jewel of my heart
In love and mirth to live together.
nothing but death e'er can part.
A SOLEMN DIRGE,
on the death of robert burns, the
scots bard
WHAT! is there ill news you're so sad,
Robin Gray.
That thy blue bonnet's pull d o er they brow?
O! sad news! sad! sad!
Poor Robin is dead
And the plowman weeps over his plow,
Well a well a day,
And the plowman weeps over his plow.
Is his pipe mute for ay, and for ay,
Robin Gray.
No more shall we tend to his song?
Aye cold as a clod
Beneath the greed sod,
Poor Robin they've lain all along,
Well a well a day,
Poor Robin they've lain all along,
Adieu thon the forest and hill,
Robin Gray,
and farewel the wallies and grove!
