English poem
On Chloris Being Ill.
by Robert Burns
Tune - "Ay wakin', O." I. Long, long the night, Heavy comes the morrow, While my soul's delight Is on her bed of sorrow. Can I cease to care? Can I cease to languish? While my darling fair Is on the couch of anguish? II. Every hope is fled, Every fear is terror; Slumber even I dread, Every dream is horror. III. Hear me, Pow'rs divine! Oh, in pity hear me! Take aught else of mine, But my Chloris spare me! Long, long the night, Heavy comes the morrow, While my soul's delight Is on her bed of sorrow.
More by Robert Burns
- On Captain Grose's Peregrinations Through Scotland, Collecting The Antiquities Of That Kingdom.
- On Captain Matthew Henderson, A Gentleman Who Held The Patent For His Honours Immediately From Almighty God.
- On Cessnock Banks.
- On Chloris
- On Commissary Goldie’s Brains
- On Elphinston's Translations. Of Martial's Epigrams.
- On Elphinstone’s Translation Of Martial’s Epigrams
- On Hearing It Asserted Falsehood