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THE LASS O' BALLOCHMYLE.
'Twas even, the dewy fields were green,
On every blade the pearls hang;
The zephyr wanton'd round the bean,
And bore its fragrant sweets alang;
In every glen the mavis sang,
All nature listening seem'd the while,
Except where green-wood echoes rang,
Amang the braes o' Ballochmyle.
On every blade the pearls hang;
The zephyr wanton'd round the bean,
And bore its fragrant sweets alang;
In every glen the mavis sang,
All nature listening seem'd the while,
Except where green-wood echoes rang,
Amang the braes o' Ballochmyle.
With careless step I onward stray'd,
My heart rejoic'd in nature's joy,
When musing in a lonely glade,
A maiden fair I chanc'd to spy;
Her look was like the morning's eye,
Her air like nature's vernal smile;
Perfection whispered passing by,
Behold the lass o' Ballochmyle!
My heart rejoic'd in nature's joy,
When musing in a lonely glade,
A maiden fair I chanc'd to spy;
Her look was like the morning's eye,
Her air like nature's vernal smile;
Perfection whispered passing by,
Behold the lass o' Ballochmyle!
Fair is the morn in flowery May,
And sweet is night in Autumn mild;
When roving thro' the garden gay,
Or wandering in a lonely wild!
But woman, nature's darling child!
There all her charms she does compile;
And sweet is night in Autumn mild;
When roving thro' the garden gay,
Or wandering in a lonely wild!
But woman, nature's darling child!
There all her charms she does compile;
