Page:Banks of Forth.pdf/4

 And winter had put on her claithes,

amang the braes o' Lomond.

But tho’ without was wet and cauld,

Within we were baith blythe and bauld,

Wi’ vocal strains frae young and auld,

amang the braes o' Lomond.

For the braw lasses o' the glen

(But for their names I dinna ken)

They danc'd and sang till I grew fain,

amang the braes o' Lomond.

Their vocal strains were sweet and rare,

Nought wi' their dancing could compare,

Assembly balls are naething mair,

than concerts at Lomond.

For a' the youths were dress'd sae gay,

Their music did so sweetly play,

That ilka heart, till break of day,

rejoic'd about Lochlomond.

Poetic fire can scarce describe

Their beauty a' without a bribe,

And justice gi'e to ilka tribe,

amang the braes o' Lomond.

For me, I frankly this will say,

Should men endure on earth for ay,

I'd freely spend perpetual day,

amang the braes o' Lomond.

The Cairine woods were yellow seen,

The flowers decay'd on Catrine lea;