Beneath the Willow Tree/The Braes o' Lomond

by Anonymous

For other versions of this work, see The Braes o' Lomond.

The braes o' Lomond.

'Twas on a Friday afternoon,
I took a trip aboon Glenfroin,
To see a concert there begin,
amang the braes o' Lomond.
That day the snaw lay on the braes,
Bright Phæbas had withdrawn his rays,
An' Winter had put on her claithes,
amang the braes o' Lomond.

But tho' without was wet and cauld,
Within we were baith blythe and bauld,
Wi, vocal strains frae young and auld,
amang the braes o Lomond.
For the braw lasses of the glen,
(But for their names I dinna ken)
They danc'd and sang till I grewin, fa
amang the braes o' Lomond.

Their vocal strains wa sweet and rare,
Nought wi' their dancing could compare,
Assembly balls are naething mair,
than concerts at Lochlomond.
For a' the youths were dressed sae gay,
Their music did so sweetly play,
That ilka heart, till break of day,
rejoic'd about Lochlomond.

Poetic fire can scarce describe
Their beauty a', without a bribe,
And justice gi'e to ilka tribe,
amang the braes o' Lomond.
For me, I frankly this will say,
Should men endure on earth for ay,
I'd freely spend perpetual day,
amang the braes o Lomond.