Robert Burns




Thou Lingering Star

I.
Thou lingering star, with less'ning ray,
    That lov'st to greet the early morn, 
Again thou usherast in the day
    My Mary from my soul was torn. 
O Mary, dear departed shade
    Where is thy place of blissful rest?
See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?
    Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast? 

II.
That sacred hour can I forget?
    Can I forget the hallow'd grove 
Where, by the winding Ayr, we met,
    To live one day of parting love?
 Eternity cannot efface
    Those records dear of transports past,
Thy image at our last embrace---
    Ah! little thought we 'twas our last!
 
III.
Ayr, gurgling, kiss'd his pebbled shore,
    O'erhung with wild-woods, thickening green;
The fragrant birch and hawthorn hoar,
    Twin'd amorous round the raptur'd scene;
 The flowers sprang wanton to be prest
    The birds sang love on every spray
 Till too, too soon, the glowing west,
    Proclaim'd the speed of wingéd day.
 
IV.
Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes,
    And fondly broods with miser-care;
Time but th' impression stronger makes,
    As streams their channels deeper wear.
O Mary! dear departed shade!
    Where is thy place of blissful rest?
See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?
    Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?