3279886Tak your auld cloak about ye — From thee, Eliza, I must go1800s
FROM THEE ELIZA I MUST GO.
From thee, Eliza, I must go,
and from my native shore;
The cruel fates between us throw,
a boundless oceans roar; But boundless oceans roaring wide,
between my love and me,
They never, never can divide
my heart and soul from thee.
Farewell, farewell, Eliza, dear,
the maid that I adore!
A boding voice is in my ear,
we part to meet no more!
But the last throb that leaves my heart,
while death stands victor by;
That throb, Eliza, is thy part,
and thine that latest sigh.