Page:Song book (1).pdf/24

 But didna Jeanie s heart loup light,
 * And didna joy blink in her e'e,

As Robie tauld a tale of love,
 * At e'ening on the lily lee?

The sun was sinking the west,
 * The birds sang sweet in ilka grove;

His check to her's he fondly prest,
 * And whisper'd thus his tale of love:-

O Jeanie fair, I lo'e thee dear;
 * O canst thon think to fancy me?

Or wilt thou leave thy mither's cot,
 * And learn to tent the farms wi' me?

At barn or byre thou shalt na drudg
 * Or naething else to trouble thee;

Bit stray amang the leather bells.
 * And tent the waving corn wi' me.

Now what could artless Jeanie do
 * She had nae will to say him na:

At length she blush'd a sweet consent.
 * And love was a ye between them twa.