Page:Soldier's return (1).pdf/3

 8 Wha spied I but my ain dear maid, Down by her mother's dwelling, And tura'd me round to hide the flood, That in my ee was swelling. Wi' altered voice, quoth I, sweet maid, Sweet as yon hawthorn bloosom, O happy, happy may he be That's dearest to my bosom. My purse is light, I've far to gang, Fein wad I be thy lodger ; I've serv'd my king and country lang: Tak pity on a sodger. Sae wistfully she gaz'd on me, And lovelier grew than ever, Quo' she, A sodger ance I lo'ed, Forget him shall I never ; Our bumble cot and barcely fare, Ye freely shall partake o't'; That gallant badge, the dear cockade, You're welcome for the sake o't, She gaz'd-she redden'd like a rove, Syne pale as ony lilie, She sank within my arms, and cried, Art thou mine ain dear Willie ?