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THE LASS OF BALLOCHMYLE.
'Twas even, the dewy fields were green,
On every blade the pearls hang;
The zephyr wantoned reund the bean,
And bore its fragrant sweets alang;
In every glen the mavis sang,
All nature list'ning seemed the while,
Except where greenwood echoes rang,
Amang the braes o Ballochmyle.
On every blade the pearls hang;
The zephyr wantoned reund the bean,
And bore its fragrant sweets alang;
In every glen the mavis sang,
All nature list'ning seemed the while,
Except where greenwood echoes rang,
Amang the braes o Ballochmyle.
With careless step I onward strayed,
My heart rejoiced in Nature’s joy;
When musing in a lonely glade,
A maiden fair I chanced to spy;
Her look was like the morning's eye,
Her air like Nature’s vernal smile;
The lily’s hue and rose’s dye,
Bespake the lass o’ Ballochmyle.
My heart rejoiced in Nature’s joy;
When musing in a lonely glade,
A maiden fair I chanced to spy;
Her look was like the morning's eye,
Her air like Nature’s vernal smile;
The lily’s hue and rose’s dye,
Bespake the lass o’ Ballochmyle.
Fair is the morn in flow’ry May,
And sweet is night in Autumn mild,
When roving through the garden gay;
Or wandering in the lonely wild;
But woman, Nature's darling child!
There all her charms she does compile;
Even there her other works are foiled
By the bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle.
And sweet is night in Autumn mild,
When roving through the garden gay;
Or wandering in the lonely wild;
But woman, Nature's darling child!
There all her charms she does compile;
Even there her other works are foiled
By the bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle.
