CXLVIII.
Reading edition
THE LOVELY LASS OF INVERNESS.
Tune—“Lass of Inverness.”
[As Burns passed slowly over the moor of Culloden, in one of his Highland tours, the lament of the Lass of Inverness, it is said, rose on his fancy: the first four lines are partly old.]
I.
The lovely lass o’ Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e’en and morn, she cries, alas! And ay the saut tear blin’s her e’e: Drumossie moor—Drumossie day— A waefu’ day it was to me! For there I lost my father dear, My father dear, and brethren three.
II.
Their winding sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are growing green to see: And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman’s e’e! Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord, A bluidy man I trow thou be; For mony a heart thou host made sair, That ne’er did wrong to thine or thee.