Page:Now westlin winds.pdf/5

 Bonny Doon, where, early roaming,

First I weav'd the rustic sang!

Bowers, adieu! where love decoying,

First enthrall'd this heart o' mine,

There the saftest sweets enjoying

Sweets the mem'ry ne'er shall tine!

Friends, so near my bosom ever,

Ye hae rendered moments dear;

But, alas ! when forced to sever,

Then the stroke, oh how severe!

Friends! that parting tear reserve it,

Though 'tis doubly dear to me!

Could I think I did deserve it,

How much happier should I be!

Scenes of woe, and scenes of pleasure,

Scenes that former thoughts renew,

Scenes of woe, and scenes of pleasure,

Now a sad and last adieu.

I have a green purse and a wee pickle gow'd,

A bonny piece land and planting on't,

It fattens my flocks, and my barns it has stow'd,

But the best thing of a's yet wanting on't;

To grace it, and trace it, and gi'e me delight;

To bless me and kiss me and comfort my sight,