Page:Cream of Tannahill's songs (2).pdf/13

13 The timmer ran done wi' the making o' coffins, Kirkyards o' their sward were a' howkit fu' cleak Dead lovers were packit like herring in barrels, Sic thousands were dying for Barrochan Jean. But mony braw thanks to the Laird o' Glen-Brodie, The grass owre their groffs is now bonnie and green He sta' the proud heart of our wanton young lady, And spoil'd a' the charms o' her twa Pawky een.

THE SUMMER GLOAMIN.

The midges dance aboon the burn, The dew begins to fa', The pairtricks, down the rushy howm, Set up their e'ening ca'; Now loud and clear the blackbird's sang Rings through the briery shaw, While, fleeting gay, the swallows play Around the castle wa'

Beneath the gowden gloaming sky ale The mavis mends his lay, The redbreast pours its sweetest strains, To charm the lingering day; While weary yeldrins seem to wail Their little nestlings torn, The merry wren, frae den to den, Gaes jinking through the thorn.

The roses fauld their silken leaves, The foxglove shuts its bell, The honey-suckle and the birk Spread fragrance through the dell. Let others crowd the giddy court Of mirth and revelry, The simple joys that nature yields Are dearer far to me.