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There was a Lass.
There was a lass, and she was fair, At kirk, or market to be seen, When a' the fairest maids were met, The fairest maid was bonny Jean.
And ay she wrought her mammy's wark, And ay she sung sae merrilie; The blithest bird upon the bush, Had ne'er a lighter heart than she.
But hawks will rob the tender joys, That bless the little lint-white's nest; And frost will blight the fairest flowers, And love will break the soundest rest.
Young Robie was the brawest lad, The flower and pride of a' the glen. And he had owsen, sheep, and kye, And wanton naigies nine or ten.
He gaed wi' Jeanie to the tryste, He danc'd wi' Jeanie on the down; And lang e'er witless Jeanie wist Her heart was tint, her peace was stown.
