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Gloomy Night 
Gloomy Night (Robert Burns) 
The gloomy night is gath'ring fast, Loud roars the wild inconstant blast; Yon murky cloud is filled with rain, I see it driving o'er the plain; The hunter now has left the moor, The scatt'red coveys meet secure; While I here wander, prest with care, Along the lonely banks of Ayr. 
The Autumn mourns her rip'ning corn By early Winter's ravage torn; Across her placid, azure sky, She sees the scowling tempest fly; Chill runs my blood to hear it rave; I think upon the stormy wave, Where many a danger I must dare, Far from the bonie banks of Ayr. 
'Tis not the surging billows'roar, 'Tis not that fatal, deadly shore; 'tho' death in ev'ry shape appear, The wretched have no more to fear: But round my heart the ties are bound; The heart transpierc'd with many a wound; These bleed afresh, those ties I tear, To leave the bonie banks of Ayr. 
Farewell, old Coilia's hills and dales, Her heathy moors and winding vales; The scenes where wretched Fancy roves, Pursuing past unhappy loves! Farewell my friends! farewell my foes! My peace with these, my love with those-The bursting tears my heart declare, Farewell, the bonie banks of Ayr! 
Tune: Roslin Castle (122) ARB