Page:Mill, mill, o.pdf/8

 He tun’d his pipe and reed sae sweet,

the birds stood listning by;

The fleecy ilock stood still and gaz'd,

charm‘d wi his melody,

O the broom, &c.

While thus we spent our time, by turns,

Betwixt our flocks and play,

I envy'd not the fairest dame,

though e'er so rich and gay,

O the broom, &c.

He did oblige me every hour,

could I but faithful be:

He stole my heart could I refuse,

whate'er he asked of me.

Hard fate that I must banish d be,

gang heavily and mourn,

Because I lov'd the kindest swain

that ever yet was born.

O the broom, &c.