5
LORD GREGORY.
O Mirk, mirk is this midnight hour,
And loud's the tempes't roar;
A waefu', wanderer seeks thy tow'r,
Lord Gregor, ope thy door.
An exile frae, her father's ha',
And a' for loving thee;
At least some pity on me shaw,
If love it may na be.
Lord Gregory mind'st thou not the grove
By bonnie Irwine-side,
Where first I own'd that virgin-love
I lang, lang had denied.
How aften didst thou pledge and vow,
Thou wad for ay be mine;
And thy fond heart, itsel' sae true,
It ne'er mistrusted thine
Hard is thy heart, Lord Gregory,
And flinty is thy breast
Thou dart of heav'n that flashest by,
O wilt thou give me rest!
Ye mustering thunders from above,
Your willing victim see!
But spare and pardon my fauεe love,
His wrangs to heaven and me!
