The Book of Scottish Song/Tho' we ne'er should meet

Tho’ we ne’er should meet.

[Dugald Moore.]

Yes, though we ne'er again should meet
By summer bower, or sunny sea;
This brain shall burn, this bosom beat,
For ever, and alone, for thee!
For who would bid oblivion roll,
Athwart the sunshine of those hours,
In which we mingled soul with soul,
As the winds mix congenial flowers.

Then, though the hand of distance flings
Long shadows 'twixt thy hearth and mine,
He cannot clip the lightning wings,
Which bear my spirit back-to thine!
Though seas their waves between us cast,
And though the star of hope has set,
Yet there's a soul within the past,
A glory I can ne'er forget!

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