The Book of Scottish Song/The bud on the brier

The bud on the brier.

[Tune, "The Campbells are comin'."]

The bud on the brier it is bonnie enough,
An' sae is the flower on the ha', lass:
How sweet shines the red setting sun in the stream,
But thou art the sweetest of a', lass.
The laverock on the lea, lass,
The lintie on the tree, lass,
The mavis aft renews her sang,
But nane o" them sings like thee, lass.

The meeting o' friends may be happy, I own,
An' blinks o' content gi'e us a', lass;
But rapture ne'er comes frae the e'e to the heait,
Save only when love gi'es the law, lass.
The bottle has its charms, lass,
Which toil and care disarm, lass,
But lasting pleasure ne'er is found,
Till love the bosom warm, lass.

In conqu'ring kingdoms let tyrants unite,
An' patriots fight to be free, lass;
But conqu'ring canna gi'e them the delight,
I ha'e being conquer'd by thee, lass.
For freedom's but a name, lass,
And slavery's just the same, lass,
I'll wear thy chain wi' a' my heart,
Gif ye will be my ain, lass.

The love-melting kiss that I steal frae thy. lips,
Will keep me aye constant and true, lass,
An' ilk coming day be mair blest than the past,
An' ilka endearment renew, lass.
Then time may flee like wind, lass,
Its loss we ne'er shall find, lass;
The rose that fades upon thy cheek,
Will flourish in thy mind, lass.

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