On Chloris being illby Robert BurnsChorus—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?
Chorus
Ev’ry hope is fled,
Ev’ry fear is terror,
Slumber ev’n I dread,
Ev’ry dream is horror.
Chorus
Hear me, Powers Divine!
Oh, in pity, hear me!
Take aught else of mine,
But my Chloris spare me!
Chorus
Note: Aught = anything whatever