Song - The Lovely Lass o’ Inverness
The lovely lass oÂ’ Inverness,
Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
For, eÂ’en to morn she cries, alas!
And aye the saut tear blinÂ’s her eÂ’e.
“Drumossie moor, Drumossie day—
A waefuÂ’ day it was to me!
For there I lost my father dear,
My father dear, and brethren three.
“Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay,
Their graves are growinÂ’ green to see;
And by them lies the dearest lad
That ever blest a womanÂ’s eÂ’e!
“Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord,
A bluidy man I trow thou be;
For mony a heart thou has made sair,
That ne’er did wrang to thine or thee!”
Poems by Robert Burns
