Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/56

38 We'd raise our lisping voices in auld Coila's melting lays,

An' sing that tearfu' tale about Doon's bonnie banks an' braes;

But thocht na we o' banks an' braes, except thae at our feet—

Like yon wee bird, we sang our sang, yet kent na that 'twas sweet.

O, is na this a joyous day? kind Nature's breathing forth

In gladness an' in loveliness owre a' the wide wide earth;

The linties, they are lilting love, on ilka bush an' tree—

O, may sic joys be ever felt, my Bess, by thee an' me.