Page:Flowers of the forest (4).pdf/7



I oblig’d to beg my bread,

And had not where to lay my head,

I’d creep where yonder flocks do feed,

And steal a look at somebody:

When I'm laid low, and am at rest,

And may be number’d with the blest,

Oh! may thy artless, feeling breast,

Throb with regard for somebody:

Ah! will you drop the pitying tear,

And sigh for the lost somebody.

But should I ever live to see

That form so much ador’d by me,

Then thou’lt reward my constancy,

And I’ll be blest with somebody:

Then shall my tears be dried by thee,

And I’ll be blest with somebody.

Whan Maggy and I war acquaint,

I carried my noddle fu’ hie;

Nae hintwhite on a’ the gay plain,

Nae gowdspink sae bonnie as she.