Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

The Braes o' Ballochmyle.

TUNE " Braes o' Ballochmyle."

THE Catrine woods were yellow seen.
The flowers decay'd on Catrine lea,
Nae laverock sang on hillock green,
But nature sicken'd on the ee.
Through faded groves Maria sang,

Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while, And aye the wild-wood echoes rang, Fareweel the Braes o' Ballochmyle!

Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers,
Again ye'll flourish fresh and fair;
Ye birdies dumb, in withering bowers,
Again ye'll charm the vocal air:
But here, alas! for me nae mair

Shall birdie charm or floweret smile :

Fareweel the bonny banks of Ayr,

Fareweel, fareweel, sweet Ballochmyle!

The Lass o' Ballochmyle.

TUNE-" Miss Forbes's Farewell to Banff."

'TWAS even the dewy fields were green,
On every blade the pearls hang,
The zephyrs wanton'd round the bean,
And bore its fragrant sweets alang:
In every glen the mavis sang,

All nature listening seem'd the while, Except where greenwood echoes rang Amang the braes o' Ballochmyle.

With careless step I onward stray'd,
My heart rejoiced in Nature's joy,
When musing in a lonely glade,

A maiden fair I chanced to spy;
Her look was like the morning's eye,
Her air like Nature's vernal smile;

Perfection whisper'd, passing by,
Behold the lass o' Ballochmyle!

The Lass o' Ballochmyle.

Fair is the morn in flowery May,

And sweet is night in autumn mild; When roving through the garden gay,

Or wandering in the lonely wild: But woman, Nature's darling child!

There all her charms she does compile; Even there her other works are foil'd

By the bonny lass o' Ballochmyle.

Oh! had she been a country maid,
And I the happy country swain,
Though shelter'd in the lowest shed
That ever rose on Scotland's plain :
Through weary winter's wind and rain,
With joy, with rapture, I would toil
And nightly to my bosom strain.

The bonny lass o' Ballochmyle!

Then pride might climb the slippery steep, Where fame and honours lofty shine; And thirst of gold might tempt the deep, Or downward seek the Indian mine;

Give me the cot below the pine,

To tend the flocks, or till the soil,

And every day have joys divine

With the bonny lass o' Ballochmyle.

The Birks of Aberfeldy.

TUNE-" The Birks of Aberfeldy."

BONNY lassie, will ye go,

Will ye go, will ye go;

Bonny lassie, will ye go

To the birks of Aberfeldy?

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes, And o'er the crystal streamlet plays; Come, let us spend the lightsome days In the birks of Aberfeldy.

While o'er their heads the hazels hing, The little birdies blithely sing,

Or lightly flit on wanton wing

In the birks of Aberfeldy.

The braes ascend, like lofty wa's,
The foaming stream deep-roaring fa's,
O'erhung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldy.

The Birks of Aberfeldy.

The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers, White o'er the linns the burnie pours, And rising, weets wi' misty showers. The birks of Aberfeldy.

Let Fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love and thee,
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »