Page:Songs of bonnie Scotland.pdf/15

 15 Then Scotland's vales, and Scotland's dales, And Scotland's hills for me; I'll drink a cup to Scotland yet, Wi' a' the honours three.

O' A' THE AIRTS. O' a' the airts the wind can blaw, I dearly lo'e the west; For there the bonnie lassie lives, The lass that I lo'e best; Though wild woods grow, and rivers row, Wi' monie a hill between, Baith day and night, my fancy's flight Is ever wi' my Jean. I see her in the dewy flow'r, Sae lovely, sweet, and fair ; I hear her voice in ilka bird, Wi' music charm the air ; There's not a bonnie flower that springs, By fountain, shaw or green, Nor yet a bonnie bird that sings, But minds me o' my Jean. Upon the banks o' flowing Clyde The lasses busk them braw; But when their best they ha'e put on, My Jeanie dings them a'; In hamely weeds she far exceeds The fairest o' the town; Baith sage and gay confess it sae, Though drest in russet gown. The gamesome lamb, that sucks its dam, Mair hameless canna be; She has nae faut, if sic ye ca't, Except her love for me :