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Poem	HOW lang and dreary is the night When I am frae my Dearie; I restless lie frae e’en to morn Though I were ne’er sae weary. Chorus.—For oh, her lanely nights are lang! And oh, her dreams are eerie; And oh, her window’d heart is sair, That’s absent frae her Dearie! When I think on the lightsome days I spent wi’ thee, my Dearie; And now what seas between us roar, How can I be but eerie? For oh, &c. How slow ye move, ye heavy hours; The joyless day how dreary: It was na sae ye glinted by, When I was wi’ my Dearie! For oh, &c.
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