Page:Lovely Jean (1).pdf/2

 

LOVELY JEAN.

Of a’ the airts the win’ can blaw,

I dearly like the west;

For there the bonny lassie lives,

The lass that I lo’e best;

Tho’ wild woods grow, an rivers row,

Wi’ mony a hill between,

Baith day an’ night my fancy’s fligh

Is ever wi' my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flower,

Sae lovely, sweet, an’ fair;

I hear her voice in ilka bird,

Wi' music charm the air;

There’s not a bonny flow’r that springs,

By fountain shaw or green,

Nor yet a bonny bird that sings,

But minds me o’ my Jean.

Upon the banks of flowing Clyde,

The lasses busk them braw;

But when their best they hae put on,

My Jeanie dings them a;

In hamely weeds she far exceeds,

The fairest of the town

Baith grave and gay confess it sae,

Tho’ dress'd in russet gown.