Page:Song, on the grand illumination in Glasgow.pdf/4



me ye nymphs and every ſwain,

I’ll tell how Peggy grieves me,

Though this I languiſh this complain,

alaſs ſhe never believes me!

My vows and ſighs like ſilent air,

unheaded never move her,

At the bonny buſh aboon Traquire,

'twas there I firſt did love her.

That day ſhe ſmil’d and made me glad,

no maid ſeem’d ever kinder,

I thought myſelf the luckieſt lad,

ſo ſweetly there to find her:

I try’d to ſoothe my am'rous flame,

in words that I thought tender,

I more then pass'd I’m not to blame,

I meant not to offend her:

Yet now ſhe ſcornful flees the p’ain,

the fields we then frequented,

Where’er ſhe meets ſhe ſhews diſdain,

ſhe looks as ne’er aquainted,

The bonny buſh bloom’d fair in May,

its sweets I’ll ay remember,

But now her ſweets makes it decay,

it fades as in December.

Ye rural powers who hear my ſtrains,

why thus ſhould Peggy grieve me,

Oh! make her partner in my pains,

then ’ether ſmiles relieve me:

If not, my love will turn despair,