Page:The Pocket Songster.djvu/131

 I press'd her gently to my breast,

And In my arms did fauld her,

The crimson blush spread owre her cheek,

When a' my love I tald her;

Ah! Jessie dear, I love thee true,

My honour I'll ne'er stain, love,

But happy wad I think mysel',

Could I ca' thee my ain, love.

Sae modestly she listened to

vThe loving vows I plighted,

She hung her head, she blush'd and said,

My love she ne'er wad slight it.

Too fast the time flew owre our heads,

That night as we were roamin';

I took her hame, and trysted her

To meet next night at gloarain'.

bonny Scots lads, in their green tartan plaids,

Their blue-belted bonnets, and feathers sae braw,

Rank'd up on the green were fair to be seen,

But my bonny young laddie was fairest of a'.

His cheeks were as red as the sweet heatherr-bell,

Or the red western cloud looking down on the snaw,

His lang yellow hair o'er his braid shoulders fell,

And the een o' the lasses were fix'd on him a'.