[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]
To the Tune of, Leader-haughs.
–
I.
THE morn was fair, saft was the air,
All nature’s sweets were springing;
The buds did bow with silver dew,
Ten thousand birds were singing:
When on the bent, with blyth content,
Young Jamie sang his marrow,
Nae bonnier lass e’er tread the grass
On Leader-haughs and Yarrow.
–
II.
How sweet her face, where every grace
In heavenly beauty’s planted;
Her smiling een, and comely mein
That nae perfection wanted.
I’ll never fret, nor ban my fate,
But bless my bonny marrow:
If her dear smile my doubts beguile,
My mind shall ken nae sorrow.
–
III.
Yet tho’ she’s fair, and has full share
Of every charm inchanting,
Each good turns ill, and soon will kill
Poor me, if love be wanting.
O bonny lass! have but the grace
To think, e’er ye gae furder,
Your joys maun flit, if ye commit
The crying sin of murder.
–
IV.
My wandring ghaist will ne’er get rest,
And night and day affright ye;
But if you’re kind, with joyful mind
I’ll study to delight ye.
Our years around with love thus crown’d,
From all thing joys shall borrow;
Thus none shall be more blest than we
On Leader-haughs and Yarrow.
–
V.
O sweetest SUE! ‘tis only you
Can make life worth my wishes,
If equal love your mind can move
To grant this best of blesses.
Thou art my sun, and thy least frown
Would blast me in the blossom:
But if thou shine, and make me thine,
I’ll flourish in thy bosom.
