Lucy's Flittin' (1819)/Lucy's flittin'
LUCY'S FLITTIN'.
Tune—Paddy O'Rafferty.
Twas when the wan leaf frae the birk tree was fa'in,
And Martinmas dowie had wound up the year,
That Lucy row'd up her wee kist wi' her a' in't,
And left her auld master, and neibours sae dear
For Lucy had served in the glen a' the simmer,
She cam there afore the flower bloomed on the pea:
An orphan was she, an' they had been gude till her,
Sure that was the thing brought the tear in her ee.
She gaed by the stable where Jamie was stannin'
Right sair was his kind heart the flittin' to see
Fare ye weel, Lucy, quo Jamie; and ran in—
The gatherin tears trickled fast frae her ee.
As down the burn-side she gaed slow wi' her flittin',
Fare ye weel, Lucy, was ilka bird's sang;
She heard the craw sayin't high on the tree sittin
And Robin was chirpin't the brown leaves mang.
O what is't that pits my poor heart in a flutter!
And what gars the tear come sae fast to my ee!
If I was na ettled to be onie better,
Thea what gars me wish onie better to be!
I'm just like a lammie that loses its mither;
Nor mither nor friend the poor lammie can see;
I fear I kae left my bit heart a' thegither,
Nae wonder the tear fa's sae fast frae my ee.
Wi' the rest o' my claes I hae rowd up the ribbon,
The bonnie blue ribbon that Jamie gae me:
Yestreen when he gae me t, and saw I was sabbin;
I'll never forget the wae bink o' his ee.
Tho' now, he said naething, but Fare ye weel, Lucy,
It made me I neither could speak, hear, nor see;
He could na say mair, but just Fare ye weel, Lucy,
Yet that I will mind to the day that I die.
The lamb likes the gowan wi' dew when its droukit,
The hare likes the brake and the braird on the lee;
But Lucy likes Jamie;—she turned—she lookit;
She thought the dear place she wad never mair see.
Ah weal may young Jamie gang dowie and cheerless!
And weel may he greet on the bank o' the burn;
His bonnie sweet Lucy, sae gentle and peerless,
Lies cauld in her grave and will never return.