Page:Garland of songs.pdf/6

6 THE LASS OF ARRANTEINIE.

Forlorn among the Highland hills,

'midst nature's wildest grandeur,

By rocky dens an' woody glens,

with weary steps I wander;

The langsome way, the darksome day,

the mountain mist sae rainy,

Are nought to me when gaun to thee,

sweet Lass d'Arranteinie.

You mossy rose-bud down the howe,

just opening fresh and bonny,

Blinks sweetly 'neath the hazle-bough,

an's scarcely seen by ony;

Sae sweet amidst her native hills,

obscnrelyobscenely [sic] blooms my Jeany,

Mair fair an gay than rosy May,

the flower o' Arranteinie.

Now from the mountain's lofty brow,

I view the distant ocean;

There Avarice guides the bounding prow,

ambition courts promotion,

Let Fortune pour her golden store.

her laurel'd favors many;

Give me but this, my soul's first wish;

the Lass o' Arranteinie.