Page:Queen Mary's lamentation (1).pdf/5

5 An' little birdı a' round their bow'rs,

In harmony convene;

The cuckow flies frae tree to tree,

While saft the zephyrs blaw.

But what are a'the joys to me,

When Jockey's far awa,

When Jockey's fer awa on sea,

When Jockey's far awa,

But what are a' the joys to me

When Jockey's far awa.

Last morning how sweet to see

The little lambkins play,

While my dear lad alang wi' me,

Did kinly wa'k this way

On yon green bank wild flow'rs he pu'd

To buik my bosom braw,

Sweet, sweet he talk'd and aft he vow'd,

But now he's far awa

But now, &c.

O gentle peace return again,

Bring Jockey to my arms

Frae dangers on the raring main

An' cruil war' alarms

Gin e'er we meet nae mair we'll part

When we hae breath to draw,