Six Excellent New Songs (Edinburgh)/The Lass of the Brow of the Hill
The lass of the Brow of the Hill.
At the brow of the hill a fair shepherd dwelt,
Who the pangs of ambition her heart never felt
A few sober maxims run in her head,
Which was better to her when she eat her brown bread,
For to rise with the lark 'tis condneive to health,
And to live in a cottage contentment is wealth,
Young Rover that lived in the valley below,
Who at church and at market was reckon'd a beau
And would oftentimes try on her heart to prevail,
and would rest his Pitch fork to tell her his tale
That with easy addresses so gained her heart,
Being artless herself she suspected no hurt.
He flattered desembled he kneel'd and implor'd.
And would lie with a grandeur or air of a lord,
Her hand he commended with language well drest,
And enlarg'd a tartar he felt in his breast
That with sighs and with tears he softened her mind,
That in down right compassion to love she inclin'd,
But no sooner he melted that snow in her breast,
But the height of his passion that moment decreas'd
And uow he goes dancing over the vale,
And he boasts of his conquest to Rachel and Nell,
Tho he sees Nepes but seldom he's always in haste
Whenever he sparks of her he makes her his jest.
Take heed preety virgin of Britain's fair isle
How you ventuae your heart for a look or a smile
For young Cubid is artfull and virgins are frail,
You may find a false Rover in every vale
For to court you and try you they'll try all their skill
But now remember the lass at the brow of the hill.
Who the pangs of ambition her heart never felt
A few sober maxims run in her head,
Which was better to her when she eat her brown bread,
For to rise with the lark 'tis condneive to health,
And to live in a cottage contentment is wealth,
Young Rover that lived in the valley below,
Who at church and at market was reckon'd a beau
And would oftentimes try on her heart to prevail,
and would rest his Pitch fork to tell her his tale
That with easy addresses so gained her heart,
Being artless herself she suspected no hurt.
He flattered desembled he kneel'd and implor'd.
And would lie with a grandeur or air of a lord,
Her hand he commended with language well drest,
And enlarg'd a tartar he felt in his breast
That with sighs and with tears he softened her mind,
That in down right compassion to love she inclin'd,
But no sooner he melted that snow in her breast,
But the height of his passion that moment decreas'd
And uow he goes dancing over the vale,
And he boasts of his conquest to Rachel and Nell,
Tho he sees Nepes but seldom he's always in haste
Whenever he sparks of her he makes her his jest.
Take heed preety virgin of Britain's fair isle
How you ventuae your heart for a look or a smile
For young Cubid is artfull and virgins are frail,
You may find a false Rover in every vale
For to court you and try you they'll try all their skill
But now remember the lass at the brow of the hill.