The Highland Plaid (4)/From Night Till Morn
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BROM NIGHT TILL MORN.
From night till morn I take my glass,
In hopes to forget my Chloe,
But though I take the pleasant draught,
She's ne'er the less before me,
Ah no, no, no wine cannot cure
The pain I endure for my Chloe.
In hopes to forget my Chloe,
But though I take the pleasant draught,
She's ne'er the less before me,
Ah no, no, no wine cannot cure
The pain I endure for my Chloe.
To wine I flew to ease the pain,
her beauteous charms created,
But wine more firmly bound the chain,
and love would not be cheated.
her beauteous charms created,
But wine more firmly bound the chain,
and love would not be cheated.