(7)
But, waes me a' is fled and gane,
And left grim miſery alane!
No ſhining hope, but falſe a’ air,
Hangs low’ring o'er the banks of Ayr.
My grief forbids, my waes renew,
I ſcarcely now can bid adieu!
For hazy is the dewy morn,
Poor victim from thy boſom torn;
The ſpirit of a Scotia's ſon,
No more on love does boldly run,
But ſinks and dies to riſe nae mair,
To ſmile upon the banks of Ayr.
Yer while I tread the diſtant ſhore,
Upon the beach where billows roar,
I'll think upon the ancient name,
Ance kindly. ne’er to meet again!
It's where my Jean does lonely dwell,
My boſom ſhall in rapture swell,
And love her beſt in ſpite of care,
My Jean upon the banks of Ayr.
So now adieu. for we muſt part,
Yet, tho' I go, I leave my heart,
Hoping all your waes will ceaſe,
And Commerce flouriſh in ſweet peace.
Farewel my friends my Jean. and thee!
My love ſhall ever conſtant be.
Farewel again, my heart is fair,
A long adieu, ye banks of Ayr.
