The Book of Scottish Song/Sing on

Sing on.

[William Chalmers.—Air, "The pride of the broomlands."]

Sing on, thou little bird,
Thy wild notes sae loud,
O sing, sweetly sing frae the tree;
Aft, beneath thy birken bow'r,
I have met at e'ening hour,
My young Jamie that's far o'er the sea.

On yon bonnie heather knowes
We pledged our mutual vows,
And dear is the spot unto me;
Tho' pleasure I ha'e nane,
While I wander alane,
And my Jamie is far o'er the sea.

But why should I mourn,
The seasons will return,
And verdure again clothe the lea;
The flow'rets shall bring,
And the saft breeze shall bring
My dear laddie again back to me.

Thou star! give thy light,
Guide my lover aright,
Frae rocks and frae shoals keep him free;
Now gold I ha'e in store,
He shall wander no more,
No, no more shall he sail o'er the sea.

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