The Book of Scottish Song/I ance knew content
I ance knew content.
[Thomas Lyle.]
I ance knew content, but its smiles are awa',
The broom blooms bonnie, an' grows sae fair;
Each tried friend forsakes me, sweet Phebe an' a',
So I ne'er will gae down to the broom ony mair.
How light was my step, and my heart, O how gay!
The broom blooms bonnie, the broom blooms fair;
Till Phebe was crown'd our queen of the May,
When the bloom o' the broom strew'd its sweets on the air.
She was mine when the snaw-draps hung white on the lea,
Ere the broom bloom'd bonnie, an' grew sae fair;
Till May-day, anither wysed Phebe frae me.
So I ne'er will gae down to the broom ony mair.
Sing, Love, thy fond promises melt like the snaw,
When broom waves lonely, an' bleak blaws the air;
For Phebe to me now is naething ava,
If my heart could say, "Gang to the broom nae mair."
Durst I trow that thy dreams in the night hover o'er,
Where broom blooms bonnie, and grows sae feir;
The swain (who, while waking, thou thinks of no more,)
Whisp'ring, "Love, will ye gang to the broom ony mair?"
No! Fare thee well, Phebe; I'm owre wae to weep,
Or to think o' the broom growing bonnie an' fair;
Since thy heart is anither's, in death I maun sleep,
'Neath the broom on the lea, an' the bawm sunny air.