Open the door to me oh
Oh, open the door, some pity to shew,
If love it may na be, Oh;
Tho' thou hast been false, I'll ever prove true,
Oh, open the door to me, Oh.
Cauld is the blast upon my pale cheek,
But caulder thy love for me, Oh:
The frost that freezes the life at my heart,
Is nought to my pains frae thee, Oh.
The wan Moon is setting beyond the white wave,
And time is setting with me, Oh:
False friends, false love, farewell! for mair
I'll ne'er trouble them, nor thee, Oh.
She has open'd the door, she has open'd it wide,
She sees the pale corse on the plain, Oh:
My true love! she cried, and sank down by his side,
Never to rise again, Oh.
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Works read by Douglas Henshall—The works of Robert Burns
All his recordings from the 250th anniversary project.
Works written in 1793—The works of Robert Burns
Most Burns works can be attributed to a specific year.
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