Page:Lass o' Ballochmyle.pdf/3

3 Even there her other works are foil'd
 * By the bonny lass o' Ballochmyle.

O had she been a country maid,
 * And I the happy country swain,

Tho' sheltered in the lowest shed
 * That ever rose on Scotia's plain;

Thro' weary winter's wind and rain
 * With joy, with rapture I would toil;

And nightly to my bogom strain
 * The bonny lass of Ballochmyle.

Then pride might climb this slippery steep,
 * Where fame and honour lofty shine;

And thirst of gold might tempt the deep
 * Or downward sink the Indian mine;

Give me the cot below the pine,
 * To tend the flocks, or till the soil,

And every day have joys divine,
 * Wi' the bonny lass of Ballochmyle.

AULD ROB MORRIS. There's auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen,
 * He's the king o' gude fellows and wale o' auld men;