Page:Songs of bonnie Scotland.pdf/13

 13 Her look was like the morning's eye, Her air like nature's vernal smile; Perfection whisper'd passing by, Behold the lass o' Ballochmyle! Fair is the morn in flowery May, And sweet is night in Autumn mild, When roving through the garden gay, Or wand'ring in the lonely wild; But woman, nature's darling child ! There all her charms she does compile, Even there her other works are foil'd, By the bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle. Oh, had she been a country maid, And I the happy country swain, Though shelter'd in the lowest shed That ever rose on Scotland's plain! Through weary winter's wind and rain, With joy, with rapture, I would toil ; And nightly to my bosom strain The bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle. Then pride might climb the slipp'ry steep Where fame and honours lofty shine; And thirst of gold might tempt the deep, Or downward dig the Indian nine. Give me the cot below the pine, To tend the flocks, or till the soil, And ev'ry day have joys divine, Wi' the bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle.

SCOTLAND YET. Gae bring my guid auld harp ance mair, Gae bring it free and fast, For I maun sing anither sang Ere a' my glee be past;