| |
| SHE casts a spell, oh, casts a spell! | |
| Which haunts me more than I can tell. | |
| Dearer, because she makes me ill | |
| Than who would will to make me well. | |
| |
| She is my store! oh, she my store! | 5 |
| Whose grey eye wounded me so sore, | |
| Who will not place in mine her palm, | |
| Nor love, nor calm me any more. | |
| |
| She is my pet, oh, she my pet! | |
| Whom I can never more forget; | 10 |
| Who would not lose by me one moan, | |
| Nor stone upon my cairn would set. | |
| |
| She is my roon, oh, she my roon! | |
| Who tells me nothing, leaves me soon; | |
| Who would not lose by me one sigh, | 15 |
| Were death and I within one room. | |
| |
| She is my dear, oh, she my dear! | |
| Who cares not whether I be here. | |
| Who will not weep when I am dead, | |
| But makes me shed the silent tear. | 20 |
| |
| Hard my case, oh, hard my case! | |
| For in her eye no hope I trace, | |
| She will not hear me any more, | |
| But I adore her silent face. | |
| |
| She is my choice, oh, she my choice! | 25 |
| Who never made me to rejoice; | |
| Who caused my heart to ache so oft, | |
| Who put no softness in her voice. | |
| |
| Great my grief, oh, great my grief! | |
| Neglected, scorned beyond belief, | 30 |
| By her who looks at me askance, | |
| By her who grants me no relief. | |
| |
| She’s my desier, oh, my desire! | |
| More glorious than the bright sun’s fire; | |
| Who were than wild-blown ice more cold | 35 |
| Were I so bold as to sit by her. | |
| |
| She it is who stole my heart, | |
| And left a void and aching smart; | |
| But if she soften not her eye, | |
| I know that life and I must part. | 40 |
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