Mirk Mirk Is This Midnight Hour

O mirk, mirk is this midnight hour
And loud the tempest's roar;
A waefu' wanderer seeks thy tower
Lord Gregory, ope thy door
An exile frae her father's ha'
And a' for loving thee;
At least some pity on me shaw
If love it may na be

Lord Gregory, mind'st thou not the grove
By bonie Irwine side
Where first I own'd that virgin love
I lang, lang had denied
How aften didst thou pledge and vow
Thou wad for aye be mine!
And my fond heart, itsel' sae true
It ne'er mistrustеd thine

Hard is thy heart, Lord Gregory
And flinty is thy brеast:
Thou bolt of Heaven that flashest by
O, wilt thou bring me rest!
Ye mustering thunders from above
Thy willing victim see;
But spare and pardon my fause Love
His wrangs to Heaven and me