How Long And Dreary Is The Night.

To a Gaelic air.


I.

    How long and dreary is the night
        When I am frae my dearie!
    I sleepless lie frae e'en to morn,
        Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.
    I sleepless lie frae e'en to morn,
        Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.

II.

    When I think on the happy days
        I spent wi' you, my dearie,
    And now what lands between us lie,
        How can I but be eerie!
    And now what lands between us lie,
        How can I be but eerie!

III.

    How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,
        As ye were wae and weary!
    It was na sae ye glinted by,
        When I was wi' my dearie.
    It was na sae ye glinted by,
        When I was wi' my dearie.

Robert Burns

Robert Burns, also known as Rabbie Burns, the Bard of Ayrshire, and various other names and epithets, was a Scottish poet and lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland and is celebrated worldwide. Born on January 25, 1759, in Alloway, he is best known for works such as 'Auld Lang Syne,' 'Scots Wha Hae,' and 'A Red, Red Rose.' He passed away on July 21, 1796, in Dumfries.

Robert Burns

Amang The Trees.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Epistle To Major Logan.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

Forlorn, My Love, No Comfort Near.

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

The Reply. (The Reproof.)

Robert Burns, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

How Lang And Dreary Is The Night.

Tune - "Cauld Kail in Aberdeen."


I.

    How lang and dreary is the night,
        When I am frae my dearie;
    I restless lie frae e'en to morn,
        Though I were ne'er sae weary.
            For oh! her lanely nights are lang;
                And oh! her dreams are eerie;
            And oh, her widow'd heart is sair,
                That's absent frae her dearie.

II.

    When I think on the lightsome days
        I spent wi' thee my dearie;
    And now what seas between us roar -
        How can I be but eerie?

III.

    How slow ye move, ye heavy hours;
        The joyless day how dreary!
    It was na sae ye glinted by,
        When I was wi' my dearie.
            For oh! her lanely ...

Robert Burns

When I Think On The Happy Days.

I.

    When I think on the happy days
        I spent wi' you, my dearie;
    And now what lands between us lie,
        How can I be but eerie!

II.

    How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,
        As ye were wae and weary!
    It was na sae ye glinted by,
        When I was wi' my dearie.

Robert Burns

Whan I Sleep I Dream.

I.

    Whan I sleep I dream,
        Whan I wauk I'm eerie,
    Sleep I canna get,
        For thinkin' o' my dearie.

II.

    Lanely night comes on,
        A' the house are sleeping,
    I think on the bonnie lad
        That has my heart a keeping.
            Ay waukin O, waukin ay and wearie,
                Sleep I canna get, for thinkin' o' my dearie.

III.

    Lanely nights come on,
        A' the house are sleeping,
    I think on my bonnie lad,
        An' I blear my een wi' greetin'!
            Ay waukin, &c.

Robert Burns

The Gloomy Night.

Tune - "Roslin Castle."


I.

    The gloomy night is gath'ring fast,
    Loud roars the wild inconstant blast;
    Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,
    I see it driving o'er the plain;
    The hunter now has left the moor,
    The scatter'd coveys meet secure;
    While here I wander, prest with care,
    Along the lonely banks of Ayr.

II.

    The Autumn mourns her rip'ning corn,
    By early Winter's ravage torn;
    Across her placid, azure sky,
    She sees the scowling tempest fly:
    Chill runs my blood to hear it rave,
    I think upon the stormy wave,
    Where many a danger I must dare,
    Far from the bonnie banks of Ayr.

III.

    'Tis not the surging billow's roar,
    'Tis n...

Robert Burns

My Heart Was Ance.

Tune - "To the weavers gin ye go."


I.

    My heart was ance as blythe and free
        As simmer days were lang,
    But a bonnie, westlin weaver lad
        Has gart me change my sang.
            To the weavers gin ye go, fair maids,
                To the weavers gin ye go;
            I rede you right gang ne'er at night,
                To the weavers gin ye go.

II.

    My mither sent me to the town,
        To warp a plaiden wab;
    But the weary, weary warpin o't
        Has gart me sigh and sab.

III.

    A bonnie westlin weaver lad,
        Sat working at his loom;
    He took my heart as wi' a net,
        In every knot and thrum.

IV.

    I sat beside my warpin-whee...

Robert Burns

As I Was A-Wand'Ring.

Tune - "Rinn Meudial mo Mhealladh."


I.

    As I was a-wand'ring ae midsummer e'enin',
        The pipers and youngsters were making their game;
    Amang them I spied my faithless fause lover,
        Which bled a' the wound o' my dolour again.
    Weel, since he has left me, may pleasure gae wi' him;
        I may be distress'd, but I winna complain;
    I flatter my fancy I may get anither,
        My heart it shall never be broken for ane.

II.

    I could na get sleeping till dawin for greetin',
        The tears trickled down like the hail and the rain:
    Had I na got greetin', my heart wad a broken,
        For, oh! luve forsaken's a tormenting pain.

III.

    Although he has left me for greed o' the sille...

Robert Burns