Page:Murderit mynstrell.pdf/3

 How sweetly shone the morning sun, Upon the bonny ha’ house o’ Dun ; Siccan a bien and lovely abode, Might wyle the pilgrim aff his road ; But the owner’s heart was hard as stane, And his Lady’s was harder still I ween. They never gave alms to the poor, And they turned the wrethed f’rae their door, While the stranger as he passed their gate, Was by the wander and tykes beset. Oh there lived there ane bonny May, Mild and sweet as the morning ray, Or the gloamin’ o’ a summer’s day: Her hair was fair, her een were blue, And the dimples o’ love played round her sweet mou, Her waist was sae jimp and her ankle sae sma, Her bosom as white as the new driven sna Sprent o’er the twin mountains o’ sweet Catefthun, Beaming mild in the rays of a wintery sun. Where the print of a foot has never been, And not a cloud in the lift is seen ; When the wind is slumbering in its cave, And the bark is sleeping on the wave,