Cream of Tannahill's Songs (3)/The Braes o' Balquhither

by Robert Tannahill

For other versions of this work, see The Braes of Balquhither.

THE BRAES OF BALQUITHER.

Let us go, lassie, go,
To the braes o' Balquhither
Where the blae-berries grow
'Mang the bonnie Highland heather;
Where the deer and the roe,
Lightly bounding together,
Sport the lang summer day
On the braes o' Balquither.

I will twine thee a bower,
By the clear siller fountain,
And I'll cover it o'er
Wi' the flowers o' the mountain;
I will range thro' the wilds,
And the deep glens sae dreary,
And return wi' their spoils,
To the bow'r o' my deary.

When the rude wintry win'
Idly raves round our dwelling,
And the roar of the the linn
On the night breeze is swelling,
So merrilly we'll sing,
As the storm rattles o'er us,
'Till the dear sheeling ring
Wi' the light lilting chorus.

Now the summer is in prime,
Wi' the flow'rs richly blooming,
And the wild mountain thyme
A' the moorlands perfuming
To our dear native scenes
Let us journey together,
Where glad innocenco reigns,
'Mang the braes o' Balquhither.

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