Four Songs (6)/Lass of Cartside

by Anonymous

For other versions of this work, see The Lass of Cartside.

THE LASS OF CARTSIDE.

Where Cart gently glides thro' the vale
And nature, in beauty array'd,
Perfumes the soft whispering gale,
That wantons in every green shade,
From pride and from vanity free,
The fairest of fair ones doth bide,
No beauty so charming as she,
The lovely sweet lass of Cartside.

By Cart as I lonesomely stray,
No flower can my fancy excite;
Not all his wild verdure so gay,
Without her, can yield me delight.
Ah, fortune! why art thou severe,
How long will thy frownings divide
This heart from its object so dear,
The lovely sweet lass of Cartside.

If destin'd some happier swain,
Shall her that I covet, enjoy,
O let me not live to complain!
Let death every tendon destroy.
But while by a meadow or grove,
The Cart gently rolls in his pride,
May happiness, pleasure and love,
Attend the sweet lass of Cartside.