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 432. Song—Behold the hour, etc. (Second Version) by Robert Burns 
						BEHOLD the hour, the boat arrive;Thou goest, the darling of my heart;
 Sever’d from thee, can I survive,
 But Fate has will’d and we must part.
 I’ll often greet the surging swell,
 Yon distant Isle will often hail:
 “E’en here I took the last farewell;
 There, latest mark’d her vanish’d sail.”
 Along the solitary shore,
 While flitting sea-fowl round me cry,
 Across the rolling, dashing roar,
 I’ll westward turn my wistful eye:
 “Happy thou Indian grove,” I’ll say,
 “Where now my Nancy’s path may be!
 While thro’ thy sweets she loves to stray,
 O tell me, does she muse on me!”
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