Returns

  song.—the day returns
  tune—“seventh of november.”
  the day returns, my bosom burns,
  the blissful day we twa did meet:
  tho' winter wild in tempest toil'd,
  ne'er summer-sun was half sae sweet.
  than a' the pride that loads the tide,
  and crosses o'er the sultry line;
  than kingly robes, than crowns and globes,
  heav'n gave me more—it made thee mine!
  while day and night can bring delight,
  or nature aught of pleasure give;
  while joys above my mind can move,
  for thee, and thee alone, i live.
  when that grim foe of life below
  comes in between to make us part,
  the iron hand that breaks our band,
  it breaks my bliss—it breaks my heart!