I'm A' Gane Wrang

I'm a' gane wrang ! I'm a' gane wrang!
I canna close my wakerife ee;
What can it be has sent this pang
To my young heart unkend to me.

I'm fear'd, I'm fear'd that it may prove
An ailment which I daurna name;
What shall I do ?— If it be love,
I'll dee outright wi' burnin' shame !

I hae a dream baith night an' day,
Of ane that's aye afore my ee,
An' aye he looks as he wad say
Something that's unco kind to me.
Yet love's a word my youthfu' tongue
Has ne'er durst utter to mysell,
I'm a' gane wrang, an' me sae young,
What shame for maiden's tongue to tell !

I find an aching at my heart,
An' dizziness that ill portends ;
A kind o' sweet an' thrilling smart
Gangs prinkling to my fingers' ends,
Then through me wi' a stoundin' pain ;
But yet I like that, pain to dree,
Then burnin' tears will drap like rain, —
'Tis love, as sure as love can be !

I dinna ken what I'm to do,
The end o' this I canna see ;
I am sae young an' bonny too,
ITis a great pity I should dee.
Yet dee I maun, — I canna prove
This tide o' pleasure an' o' pain ;
There's nought sae sweet as virgin's love,
But, O, to be beloved again !