4
THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST.
I’ve heard a lilting at our ewes’ milking,
Lasses a-lilting before the break of day;
But now there’s a moaning on ilka green loaning,
That our braw foresters are a’ wede away.
At bughts in the morning nae blythe lads are scorning
The lasses are lonely, dowie, and wae,
Nae daffing, nae gibing, but sighing and sabbing,
Ilk ane lifts her leglen and hies her away.
At c’en in the gloaming, nae swankies are roaming,
’Mang staeks wi’ the lasses at bogle to play;
But ilk maid sits drearie, lamenting her dearie,
The flowers o’ the forest are a’ wede away.
In harst at the shearing, nae younkers are jeering;
The banstets are runkled, Ivart and grey;
At fairs or at preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching,
Since our braw foresters are a' wede away.
O dool for the order sent our lads to the border!
The English for anee by guile won the day;
The flowers o’ the forest that aye shone the foremost
The prime o’ the land now lie eauld in the elay.
We’ll hear nae mair lilting at the ewes milking.
The women and bairns are dowie and wae,
Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning,
Sinee our braw foresters are a’ wede away.
