To the Tune of, Blink over the Burn sweet BETTIE.
LEave kindred and friends, sweet Betty,
Leave kindred and friends for me;
Assur’d thy fervant is steddy
To love, to honour, and thee.
The gifts of nature and fortune,
May fly, by chance as they came;
They’re grounds the destines sport on,
But vertue is ever the same.
Altho’ my fancy were roving,
Thy charms so heavenly appear,
That other beauties disproving,
I’d worship thine only, my dear.
And shou’d life’s sorrows embitter
The pleasure we promis’d our loves,
To share them together is fitter,
Than moan assunder, like doves.
Oh! were I but once so blessed,
To grasp my love in my arms!
By thee to be grasp’d! and kissed!
And live on thy heaven of charms!
I’d laugh at fortune’s caprices,
Shou’d fortune capricious prove;
Tho’ death shou’d tear me to pieces,
I’d die a martyr to love.
– New Words by Different Hands.