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THE LASS O' ARRANTEENIE.
Far lone amang the Highland hills
Midst Naturo's wildest grandeur,
By rocky dens, and woody glens
With weary steps I wander:
Tho langsome way, tho darksome day,
The mountain mist sae rainy,
Are nought to me, when gaun to thee.
Sweet lass o' Arranteenie.
Midst Naturo's wildest grandeur,
By rocky dens, and woody glens
With weary steps I wander:
Tho langsome way, tho darksome day,
The mountain mist sae rainy,
Are nought to me, when gaun to thee.
Sweet lass o' Arranteenie.
Yon mossy rose-bud down the howe,
Just op'ning fresh and bonny,
Blinks sweetly 'neath the hazel bough,
And scarcely seen by ony.
Sae, sweet amidst her native hills,
Obscurely blooms my Jeanie,
Mair fair and gay than rosy May,
The flow'r o' Arranteenie.
Just op'ning fresh and bonny,
Blinks sweetly 'neath the hazel bough,
And scarcely seen by ony.
Sae, sweet amidst her native hills,
Obscurely blooms my Jeanie,
Mair fair and gay than rosy May,
The flow'r o' Arranteenie.
Now, from the mountain's lofty brow,
I view the distant ocean;
There Av'rico guides the bounding prow,
Ambition courts promotion—
Let Fortune pour her golden store,
Her laurl'd favours many,
Give me but this, my heart's first wish,
The lass o' Arranteenio.
I view the distant ocean;
There Av'rico guides the bounding prow,
Ambition courts promotion—
Let Fortune pour her golden store,
Her laurl'd favours many,
Give me but this, my heart's first wish,
The lass o' Arranteenio.
THE BRAES O' GLENIFFER.
Keen blaws the wind o'er the braes o' Gleniffer,
The auld castle's turrets are cover'd wi' snaw;
How chang'd frae the time when I met wi' my lover
Amang tho broom bushes o' Stanely green shaw;
Tho wild flow'rs o' summer were spread a' sae bonnie,
Tho mavis sang sweet frae the green birken tree;
But far to the camp they hae marched my dear Johnnie,
And now it is winter wi' Nature and me,
The auld castle's turrets are cover'd wi' snaw;
How chang'd frae the time when I met wi' my lover
Amang tho broom bushes o' Stanely green shaw;
Tho wild flow'rs o' summer were spread a' sae bonnie,
Tho mavis sang sweet frae the green birken tree;
But far to the camp they hae marched my dear Johnnie,
And now it is winter wi' Nature and me,