The Book of Scottish Song/The leal light heart

The leal light heart.

[John Mitchell.—Here first printed.]

A leal light heart's ne'er sad, my jo,
A leal light heart's ne'er sad, my jo;
The e'e we ken will tell the tale,
Whene'er the heart is sad, my jo.

The miser to his heaps o' gold
Anither heap may add, my jo,
But if the truth be fairly told,
We'll find his heart's aft sad, my jo.
A leal light heart, &c.

Content will keep the han's aye free
Frae every thing that's bad, my jo,
While in her bright and smiling e'e
We read her heart's ne'er sad, my jo.
A leal light heart, &c.

Pale envy may affect to smile,
And seem like ane that's glad, my jo,
But in her breast she wears the while
A heart that's aye been sad, my jo.
A leal light heart, &c.

A lord may own baith rigs and gear,
An' be in ermine clad, my jo;
But mark his e'e for ae short year,
An' say if he's ne'er sad, my jo.
A leal light heart, &c.

The truly blythe aroun' his hearth
Will swear ambition's mad, my jo,
An' drown in rosy social mirth,
Whate'er wad mak' him sad, my jo.
A leal light heart, &c.

The lass we lo'e, the frien's we prize,
When such are to be had, my jo;
Will lend to life the rainbow dyes,
That flee the heart that's sad, my jo.
A leal light heart, &c.

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