The Book of Scottish Song/Tell me, Dear

Tell me, Dear.

[Thomas C. Latto.—Here first printed.—Air, "Loudon's bonnie woods and braes."]

Tell me, dear! in mercy speak,
Has heaven heard my prayer, lassie?
Faint the rose is on thy cheek,
But still the rose is there, lassie!
Away, away, each dark foreboding,
Heavy days with anguish clouding,
Youthfu' love in sorrow shrouding,
Heaven could ne'er allow, lassie!
Day and night I've tended thee,
Watching, love! thy changing e'e;
Dearest gift that heaven could gi'e,
Say thou'rt happy now, lassie.

Willie! lay thy cheek to mine—
Kiss me, oh, my ain laddie I
Never mair may lip o' thine
Press where it hath lain, laddie!
Hark! I hear the angels calling,
Heavenly strains are round me falling,
But the stroke—thy soul appalling—
'Tis my only pain, laddie!
Yet the love I bear to thee
Shall follow where I soon maun be;
I'll tell how gude thou wert to me—
We part to meet again, laddie!

Lay thine arm beneath my head—
Grieve na sae for me, laddie!
I'll thole the doom that lays me dead,
But no a tear frae thee, laddie!
Aft where yon dark tree is spreading,
When the sun's last beam is shedding,
Where no earthly foot is treading,
By my grave thou'lt be, laddie!
Though my sleep be wi' the dead,
Frae on high my soul shall speed,
And hover nightly round thy head.
Although thou wilt na see, laddie.

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