Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/135

Rh Her hair is like the curling mist

That climbs the mountain-sides at e'en,

When flow'r-reviving rains are past;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her forehead 's like the show'ry bow,

When gleaming sunbeams intervene,

And gild the distant mountain's brow;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem,

The pride of all the flow'ry scene,

Just op'ning on its thorny stem;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her teeth are like the nightly snow,

When pale the morning rises keen,

While hid the murm'ring streamlets flow;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her lips are like yon cherries ripe,

That sunny walls from Boreas screen,

They tempt the taste and charm the sight;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her breath is like the fragrant breeze,

That gently stirs the blossom'd bean,

When Phœbus sinks behind the seas;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush,

That sings on Cessnock banks unseen,

While his mate sits nestling in the bush;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

But it's not her air, her form, her face,

Though matching beauty's fabled queen,

'Tis the mind that shines in every grace;

An' chiefly in her rogueish een.

[ or three lines of this song are old. The rest is by. The tune is given in Oswald with the title "Young Jocky was the blythest lad in a' our town."]

[ first verse of this song is old. The rest was written by for the Museum, to the tune of "The bonnie lad that's far awa'." The words also sing to the old air of "O'er the hills and far awa'." "This little lamentation of a desolate damsel," says Jeffrey, "is tender and pretty."]