The Poetical Works of Robert Burns/The Lovely Lass of Inverness
For other versions of this work, see The Lovely Lass of Inverness (Burns).
THE LOVELY LASS OF INVERNESS.
The lovely lass o' Inverness,Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;For e'en and morn she cries, alas!And aye the saut tear blins her ee:Drumossie moor, Drumossie day,A waefu' day it was to me;For there I lost my father dear,My father dear, and brethren three.
Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay,Their graves are growing green to see;And by them lies the dearest ladThat ever blest a woman's ee!Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord,A bluidy man I trow thou be;For monie a heart thou hast made sair,That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee.