[8]
Sweet the joys that lovers find,
great the treaſure, ſweet the pleaſure,
Where the heart is always kind.
Down the burn, &c.
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The BRAES of YARROW.
THE ſun juſt glancing thro' the trees,
gave light and joy to ilka grove,
And pleaſure in each ſouthern breeze,
awaken hope and ſlumbring love;
When Jeany ſung with hearty glee,
to charm her winſome marrow,
My bonny laddie gang wi' me,
we'll o'er the braes of Yarrow.
Young Sandy was the blitheſt ſwain
that ever pip'd on broomy brae;
No laſs cou'd ken him free from pain,
ſo graceful, kind, ſo fair and gay.
And Jeany ſung, &c.
He kiſs'd and lov'd the bonny maid,
her ſparkling e'en had won his heart,
No laſs the youth had e'er betray'd,
no fears had ſhe, the lad no art,
And ſtill ſhe ſung with hearty glee,
to charm her winſome marrow,
My bonny laddie gang wi' me,
we'll o'er the braes of Yarrow.
FΙΝΙS.
