The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/Behold the hour
For other versions of this work, see Behold the hour.
BEHOLD THE HOUR.
TUNE—'ORAN GAOIL.'
Behold the hour, the boat arrive!Thou goest, thou darling of my heart:Sever'd from thee can I survive?But fate has will'd, and we must part!I'll often greet this surging swell;Yon distant isle will often hail:'E'en here I took the last farewell;There latest mark'd her vanish'd sail.'
Along the solitary shore,While flitting sea-fowls round me cry,Across the rolling, dashing roar,I'll westward turn my wistful eye;'Happy, thou Indian grove,' I'll say,'Where now my Nancy's path may be!While thro' thy sweets she loves to stray,O tell me, does she muse on me?'