8
“Oft have we wander’d in sweetest retirement,
Telling our loves 'neath the moons silent beam,
Sweet were our meetings of tender endearment,
But fled are these joys like a fleet-passing dream
Cruel remembrance, ah! why wilt thou wreck me,
Brooding o'er joys that for ever are flown!
Cruel remembrance in pity forsake me,
Flee to some bosom where grief is unknown!"
I'll aye ca' in by yon town.
I'll ay ca' in by yon town,
And by yon garden green again;
I'll ay ca' in by yon town.
And see my bonny Jean again.
There's nane shall ken, there's nane shall guess,
What brings me back the gate again,
But she, my fairest faithfu' lass,
And stowlins we shall meet again.
She'll wander by the aiken tree,
When trystin-time drews near again;
And when her lovely form I see,
O haith, she's doubly dear again!
I'll ay ca' in by yon town,
And by yon garden green again;
I'll ay ca' in by yon town,
And see my bonny Jean again.
