Page:Lucy's flittin'.pdf/3

3 O what is't that pits my poor heart in a flutter!

And what gars the tear come sae fast to my ee!

If I was na ettled to be onie better,

Thea what gars me wish onie better to be!

I'm just like a lammie that loses its mither;

Nor mither nor friend the poor lammie can see;

I fear I kae left my bit heart a' thegither,

Nae wonder the tear fa's sae fast frae my ee.

Wi' the rest o' my claes I hae rowd up the ribbon,

The bonnie blue ribbon that Jamie gae me:

Yestreen when he gae me t, and saw I was sabbin;

I'll never forget the wae bink o' his ee.

Tho' now, he said naething, but Fare ye weel, Lucy,

It made me I neither could speak, hear, nor see;

He could na say mair, but just Fare ye weel, Lucy,

Yet that I will mind to the day that I die.

The lamb likes the gowan wi' dew when its droukit,

The hare likes the brake and the braird on the lee;

But Lucy likes Jamie;—she turned—she lookit;

She thought the dear place she wad never mair see.

Ah weal may young Jamie gang dowie and cheerless!