7
By the side of yon grove where the green willow dips,
In the gush of yon fountain how sweet to recline,
And to know that I sigh'd upon innocent lips,
That ne’er had been sigh'd on by any but mine
Every leaf was at rest, &c.
And here in this lone little cot, I exclaim'd,
With a maid that was lovely to soul and to eye,
Who would blush when I prais'd her, and weep when I blam'd,
How blest could I live, and how calm could I die,
Every leaf was at rest, &c.
LAY THY LOOF IN MINE, LASS.
O lay thy loof, in mine, lass,
in mine lass, in mine lass,
And swear on thy white hand, lass,
that thou wilt be my ain
A slave to love's unbounded sway,
He aft has wrought me meikle wae,
But now he is my deadly fae,
Unless thou be my ain.
O lay thy loof, &c.
There's mony a lass has brake my rest,
That for ae blink I hae lo'ed best,
But thou art Queen within my breast,
For ever to remain.
O lay, &c.
