Fife and a' the lands about it

Allan by his grief excited,

Long the victim of despair,

Thus deplor'd his passion slighted,

Thus address'd the scornful fair;

Fife and a' the lands about it,

Undesiring I can see;

Joy may crown my days without it,

Not, my charmer, without thee.

Must I then forever languish,

Still complaining, still endure;

Can her form create an anguish,

Which her soul disdains to cure!

Why, by hopeless passion fated,

Must I still those eyes admire,

Whilst unheeded, unregretted,

In her presence I expire.