The Book of Scottish Song/In yon Garden

In yon Garden.

[Given in Johnson's Museum, (vol. VI. 1803,) from the singing of the publisher's father, Charles Johnson, who said it was an old song in his young days.]

In yon garden fine and gay,
Picking lilies a' the day,
Gathering flowers o' ilka hue,
I wistna then what love could do.

Where love is planted there it grows,
It buds and blows like any rose;
It has a sweet and pleasant smell;
No flower on earth can it excel.

I put my hand into the bush,
And thought the sweetest rose to find;
But pricked my finger to the bone,
And left the sweetest rose behind.

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