Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/28

10 Sair gloom'd his dark brow, blood-red his cheek grew,

Wild flash'd the fire frae his red rolling e'e!—

Ye's rue sair this morning your boasts and your scorning:

Defend ye, fause traitor! fu' loudly ye lie.

Awa' wi' beguiling, cried the youth, smiling:—

Aff went the bonnet; the lint-white locks flee;

The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shawing,

Fair stood the lov'd maid wi' the dark rolling e'e!

Is it my wee thing! is it my ain thing!

Is it my true love here that I see!

O Jamie forgi'e me; your heart's constant to me;

I'II never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee!