Page:Ayrshire melodist, or, The muses' delight.pdf/2

 THE

My air dear Jean.

F a' the airts the win' can blaw, I dearly like the west, For there the bonny lassie lives, The lass that I love best: Tho' wild woods grow, and rivers row, Wi' mony a hill between, Baith day an' night my fancy's flight Is ever wi' my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flowers, Sae lovely, sweet an' fair, I hear her voice in ilka bird, Wi' mirth that charms the air; There's not a bonny flower that springs By fountain, shaw, or green, Nor yet a bonny bird that sings, But minds me o' my Jean.

Upon the banks o' flowing Clyde, The lasses busk them braw,