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Now from the mountain's lofty brow,
I view the distant ⟨ocean⟩
There avarice guides the bounding prow,
ambition courts promotion:
Let fortune pour her golden store,
her laurel favors many:
Give me but this, my soul's first wish,
The Lass of Arranteinie.

 

———x———

 

Buxom bonny, Willie.

 

When fragrant bloom of yellow broom
delights our lads and lassies,
O'er yellow broom in beauty's bloom
my Will all lads surpasses!
Wi' Willy then I'll o'er the braes,
I'll o'er the braes Willy;
Wi' Willy then I'll o'er the braes,
I'll o'er the braes wi' Willy.
From morn to eve I'll sing the praise
of buxom, bonny Willy.
Willy, Willy, Willy, Willy.
From morn to eve I'll sing the praise
of buxom, bonny Willy.

Reclin'd by Tay, at noon-tide day,
we'll pu the daisy pretty.
The live-lang day we'll kiss and play,
er sing some loving ditty.
Wi Willy then, &c.