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The Farewell

IT was a’ for our rightfu’ King
  We left fair Scotland’s strand;
It was a’ for our rightfu’ King
  We e’er saw Irish land,
  My dear—
  We e’er saw Irish land.
 
Now a’ is done that men can do,
  And a’ is done in vain;
My love and native land, farewell,
  For I maun cross the main,
  My dear—
  For I maun cross the main.
 
He turn’d him right and round about
  Upon the Irish shore;
And gae his bridle—reins a shake,
  With, Adieu for evermore,
  My dear—
  With, Adieu for evermore!
 
The sodger frae the wars returns,
  The sailor frae the main;
But I hae parted frae my love,
  Never to meet again,
  My dear—
  Never to meet again.
 
When day is gane, and night is come,
  And a’ folk bound to sleep,
I think on him that 's far awa’,
  The lee—lang night, and weep,
  My dear—
  The lee—lang night, and weep.
Autres oeuvres par Robert Burns ...



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