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, 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 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, Blithe was She. TUNE-" Andrew and his Cutty Gun." 0 BLITHE, blithe, and merry was she, Blithe was she butt and ben: Blithe by the banks of Earn, And blithe in Glenturit glen. By Auchtertyre grows the aik, On Yarrow banks the birken shaw; But Phemie was a bonnier lass Than braes o' Yarrow ever saw. Her looks were like a flower in May, Her smile was like a simmer morn; She trippèd by the banks of Earn, |