Page:Kate Dalrymple and The flowers of the forest (1).pdf/6

 Her yielding timbers sever,

Her pitehy seams are rent,

When heaven, all bounteous ever,

Its boundless merey sent,

A sail in sight appears,

We hail her with three cheers,

Now we sail,

With a gale,

From the Bay of Biscay, O.

O whare gat ye that bonny blue bonnet?

O silly blind body canna ye see?

I gat it frae a bonny Seots callan,

Atween Saint Johnstone and bonny Dundee.

And O, gin I saw but the laddie that gae me’t,

Fu' aft has he doudl’d me upon his knee;

But now he’s awa, and I dinna ken whare he’s,

O gin he was back to his minny and me.

My heart has nae room when I think on my dawty,

His dear rosy haffits bring tears in iny e’e;

But now he’s awa, and I dinna ken whare he’s,

Gin we could anee meet, we’s ne’er part till we do

And O, gin I saw but ny bonny Seots callan,

Fu’ aft has he doudl’d me upon his knee;

But now he’s awa, and I dinna ken whare he’s,

O gin he was back to his minny and me.