O thou who pours the rainy day! The dark and dreary heart, Though clouds may gather and skies may darken, The sun shall pierce them yet.
Though I be not where thou art, Guide my sad steps alone, Till thy sweet light and my heart rise, Here like a flower unblown.
O bring me in the light of day, When winds and oceans ceaseless roam; And golden waves, wife in their play, With lulling whispers, call me home.
- Robert Burns