Chapter 1075 of 1414 · 51 words · ~1 min read

CCLVIII.

FORLORN, MY LOVE, NO COMFORT

NEAR.

Tune--"_Let me in this ae night._"

["How do you like the foregoing?" Burns asks Thomson, after having copies this song for his collection. "I have written it within this hour: so much for the speed of my Pegasus: but what say you to his bottom?"]