The Bonnie Lass of Albanie

My heart is wae, and unco wae,
To think upon the raging sea,
That roars between her gardens green,
An' th' bonnie lass of ALBANIE. -

This lovely maid's of nobel blood,
That ruled Albion's kingdoms three;
But Oh, Alas! for her bonie face,
They hae wrang'd the lass of ALBANIE.

In the rolling tide of spreading Clyde,
There sits an isle of high degree,
And a town of fame whose princely name,
Should grace the lass of ALBANIE.

But there's a youth, a witless youth,
That fills the place where she should be;
We'll send him o'er to his native shore,
And bring our ain sweet ALBANIE.

Alas the day, and woe the day,
A false Usurper wan the gree,
Who now commands the towers and lands -
The royal right of ALBANIE.

We'll daily pray, we'll nightly pray,
On bended knees most fervently,
That the time may come, with pipe an' drum,
We'll welcome hame fair ALBANIE.

poem by Robert Burns (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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