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 Slow stealing o'er the dewy green,

Towards the grave of gentle Sally,

And while remembrance wakes the sigh,

Which weans each feeling heart from joy,

The mournful dirge ascending high,

Bewails the fate of Sally Roy.





in that season of the year,

When all things gay and sweet appear,

That Colin, with the morning ray,

Arose and sung his rural lay,

Of Nannie's charms the shepherd sung,

The hills and dales with Nannie rung;

While Roslin castle heard the swain,

And echoed back the cheerful strain.

Awake, sweet Muse! the breathing spring

With rapture warms, awake and sing!

Awake and join the vocal throng,

Who hail the morning with a song:

To Nannie raise the cheerful lay;

O! bid her haste and come away;

In sweetest smiles herself adorn,

And add new graces to the morn!

O hark, my love! on ev'ry spray,

Each feather'd warbler tunes his lay;