When trees did bud & fields were green, and broom bloom'd fair to see: When Mary was complete fifteen, and love laugh'd in her eye: Blythe Davie's blinks her heart did move, to speak her mind thus free, Gang down the burn Davie, love, and I shall follow thee.
Now Davie did each lad surpass, that dwelt on this burn-side, And Mary was the bonniest lass, just fit to be a bride; Her cheeks were rosy, red and white, her een were bonny blue; Her looks were like Aurora bright, her lips like dropping dew.
As down the burn they took their way, what tender tales they said! His cheek to hers he aft did lay, and with her bosom play'd; Till baith at last impatient grown to be mair fully blest, In yonder vale they lean'd them down, love only saw the rest.
What pass’d, I guess was harmless play, and naithing sure unmeet; For ganging hame I heard them say, they lik'd a wa'k sae sweet; And that they aften shou'd return, such pleasure's to renew, Quoth Mary, Love, I like the burn, and ay shall follow you
GLASGOW. Printed by J. and M. Robertson, Saltmarket, 1803.
