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