Highland Air. The lone vale

How sweet this lone vale,

and how soothing to feeling

Yon nightingale's notes,

which in melody melt!

Oblivion of woe o'er

my mind gently stealing, --

A pause from keen anguish

a moment is felt.

The moon's yellow light

on the still lake is sleeping;

Ah! near yon sad spot Mary

sleeps in her tomb!

Again the heart swells,

the eye flows with weeping;

And the sweets of the vale

are all cover'd with gloom.