43
By Oghtertyre grows the aik,
On Yarrow braes the birken shaw ;
But Phemie was a bonnier lass
Than braes o' Yarrow ever saw.
Blithe, blithe, &c.
Her looks were like a flower in May-
Her smile was like a simmer morn;
She tripped by the banks of Erne
As light's a bird upon a thorn.
Blithe, blithe, &c.
Her bonnie face it was as meeK
As ony lamb upon the lea;
The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet
As was the blink o' Phemie's ee.
Blithe, blithe, &c.
The Highland hills I've wander'd wide,
And o'er the Lowlands I hae been ;
But Phemie was the blithest lass
That ever trod the dewy green.
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OH HEY! JOHNNIE LAD.
Words by TANNAHILL, Air-" The lasses o' the ferry." Key-note F.
On hey! Johnnie lad,
Ye're no sae kind's ye should hae been,
Oh hey! Johnnie lad,
Ye didna keep your tryst yestreen.
I wanted lang beside the wood,
Sae wae and weary a' my lane,
Oh hey! Johnnie lad,
It was a waefu' night yestreen.
I looked by the whinny knowe,
I looked by the firs sae green,
I looked owre the spunkie howe,
And aye I thought ye would hae been.
The ne'er a supper cross'd my craig,
The ne'er a sleep has clos'd my een,
Oh hey! Johnnie lad,
It was a waefu' night yestreen.
Gin ye were waiting by the wood,
Then I was waiting by the thorn,
I thought it was the place we set,
And waited maist till dawning morn.
Sae be nae vex'd my bonnie lassie,
Let my waiting stand for thine :
We'll awa to Craigton shaw,
And seek the joys we tint yestreen.
