Page:Gems of Tannahill's songs, &c. &c..pdf/4

 4 How lost were my days till I met wi' my Jessie, The sports o' the city seemed foolish and vain, I ne'er saw a nymph I would ca' my dear lassie, Till charmed wi' sweet Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane. Though mine were the station o' loftiest grandeur, Amidst its profusion I'd languish in pain; And reckon as naething the heicht o' its splendour, If wanting sweet Jesssie, the flower o' Dunblane.

THE LASS O ARRANTEENIE. Far lone amang the Highland hills, Midst Nature's wildest grandeur, By rocky dens, and 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 o' Arranteenie. Yon mossy rose-bud down the howe, Just op'ning fresh and bonny, Blinks sweetly 'neath the hazel bough, And scarcely seen by ony. Sae sweet amidst her native hills, Obscurely blooms my Jeanie, Mair fair and gay than rosy May, The flower Arranteenie. Now, from the mountain's lofty brow, I view the distant ocean There Av'rice guides the bounding prow, Ambition courts promotion.