Robert Burns
The Winter It Is Past
Oh the winter it is past and the summer's come at last
And the small birds sing on every green tree
And their little hearts are glad but mine is ever sad
Since my true love is far away from me

Oh the rose among the briar by the water running clear
Brings joy to the linnet and the bee
And their little hearts are blessed but mine can know no rest
Since my true love is far away from me

For my love is like the sun, in the firmament doth run
Forever constant and true
But his is like the moon that wanders up and down
And every month it is new

All you who are in love and cannot it remove
I pity the pain that you endure
For experience lets me know that your hearts are full of woe
And a sorrow no mortal can cure