Page:Netherton ball.pdf/4

 For there the bonny lassie lives,

The lassie I loe best;

There wild-woods grow, and rivers row,

And mony a hill between;

But day and night my fancy's flight,

Is ever wi' my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flowers,

I see her sweet and fair,

I hear her in the tunefu’ birds,

I hear her charm the air:

There’s not a bonnie flower that springs,

By fountain, shaw or green.

There’s not a bonnie 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.