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the tear-drop

wae is y heart, and the tear&039;s y e&039;e;

ng, ng has joy been a stranr to :

forsaken and friendless, y burden i bear,

and the sweet voice o&039; pity ne&039;er unds y ear

love thou hast pleasures, and deep hae i v&039;d;

love, thou hast rrows, and sair hae i pruv&039;d;

but this bruised heart that now bleeds y breast,

i can feel, by its throbbgs, will on be at rest

oh, if i were—where happy i hae been—

down by yon strea, and yon bonie castle-green;

for there he is wand&039;rg and g on ,

wha wad on dry the tear-drop that clgs to y e&039;e

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