The Braes of Yarrow (1820, Edinburgh)/Far, Far at Sea
For other versions of this work, see Far, Far at Sea.
FAR, FAR AT SEA
'Twas at night when the bell had toll'd twelve,
And poor Susan was laid on her pillow,
In her ear ewhisper'd some fleeting elve,
Your love is now toss'd on a billow,
Far, Far at sea,
And poor Susan was laid on her pillow,
In her ear ewhisper'd some fleeting elve,
Your love is now toss'd on a billow,
Far, Far at sea,
All was dark as she woke out of breath,
Not an object her fears could discover;
All was still as the silence of death,
Save fancy, which painted her lover.
Far Far at sea.
Not an object her fears could discover;
All was still as the silence of death,
Save fancy, which painted her lover.
Far Far at sea.
So she whisper'd a pray'r———clos'd her eyes.
But the phantom still haunted her pillow,
While in terror she echoed his cries,
As struggling he sunk in the billow,
Far, Far at sea.
But the phantom still haunted her pillow,
While in terror she echoed his cries,
As struggling he sunk in the billow,
Far, Far at sea.
FINIS.