The Blissful Day

The day returns, my bosom burns,The blissful day we twa did meet;Tho' winter wild in tempest toil'd,Ne'er summer-sun was half sae sweet.Than a' the pride that loads the tide,And crosses o'er the sultry line;Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes,Heaven gave me more, it made thee mine.

While day and night can bring delight,Or nature aught of pleasure give;While joys above my mind can move,For thee, and thee alone, I live!When that grim foe of life belowComes in between to make us part;The iron hand that breaks our band,It breaks my bliss—it breaks my heart.