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Let others range from isle to isle,
Where never-ending simmers smile:———
Mair dear the groves o' Ballochyle,
That shelter Highland Mary O.
Lassie wi', &c.
I'd, cheerfu', toil frae dawn o' day,
O'er yon lone glen and ferny brae,
Could I but get, by gloaming grey,
Ae blythsome blink of Mary, O.
O may nae cloud the sun o'ercast,
To chill this flow'ret's snawie breast!
Nae reptile's breath untimely blast
The op'ning bloom of Mary, O.
Lassie wi', &c.
UP IN THE MORNING EARLY.
Cauld blaws the wind frae north to south,
And drift is driving sairly;
The sheep are couring i' the heugh,
O sirs! it's winter fairly.
Now up in the morning's no for me,
Up in the morning early;
I'd rather gang supperless to my bed,
Than rise in the morning early.
