Skim the loch in canty glee,
Rest the oars to pleasure thee;
When chilly breezes sweep the tide,
I'll hap thee wi' my Highland plaid.
Lowland lads may dress mair fine,
Woo in words mair saft than mine;
Lowland lads hae mair of art,
A' my boast's an honest heart,
Whilk shall ever be my pride,
To row thee in my Highland plaid!
"Bonny lad, ye've been sae leal,
My heart would break at our fareweel,
Lang your love has made me fain,
Take me—take me for your ain!"
'Cross the Firth, away they glide,
Young Donald and his Lowland bride.
Tannahill.
GLOOMY WINTER'S NOW AWA'.
Gloomy winter's now awa',
Saft the westling breezes blaw,
'Mang the birks o' Stanly shaw
The mavis sings fu' cheery O;
Sweet the crawflower's early bell
Decks Gleniffer's dewy dell,
Blooming like thy bonnie sel',
