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