Eliza Cook

  • Nae star was glintin’ out aboon,
    The cluds were dark and hid the moon;
    The whistling gale was in my teeth,
    And round me was the deep snaw wreath;
    But on I went the dreary mile,
    And sung right cantie a’ the while
    I gae my plaid a closer fauld;...

  • I Love it, I love it! and who shall dare
    To chide me for loving that old arm-chair?
    I ’ve treasured it long as a sainted prize,
    I ’ve bedewed it with tears, I ’ve embalmed it with sighs.
    ’T is bound by a thousand bands to my heart;
    Not a tie will break,...

  • I leave thee for awhile, my love, I leave thee with a sigh;
    The fountain spring within my soul is playing in mine eye;
    I do not blush to own the tear, let, let it touch my cheek,
    And what my lip has failed to tell, that drop perchance may speak.
    Mavourneen! when again I...