Tak your auld cloak about ye/From thee, Eliza, I must go

FROM THEE ELIZA I MUST GO.

From thee, Eliza, I must go,
⁠and from my native shore;
The cruel fates between us throw,
⁠a boundless oceans roar;
But boundless oceans roaring wide,
⁠between my love and me,
They never, never can divide
⁠my heart and soul from thee.

Farewell, farewell, Eliza, dear,
⁠the maid that I adore!
A boding voice is in my ear,
⁠we part to meet no more!
But the last throb that leaves my heart,
⁠while death stands victor by;
That throb, Eliza, is thy part,
⁠and thine that latest sigh.

FINIS.