The Braes of Balquither (1817, Edinburgh)/The Braes of Balquither
For other versions of this work, see The Braes of Balquhither.
THE BRAES OF BALQUITHER.
Let us go Lassie, goTo the braes of Balquither,Where the blae berries grow'Mang the bonny Highland heather,Where the deer and the roe,Lightly bounding together;Sport the lang summer dayOn the braes of Balquither.
I will twine yon abowerBy the clear sille fountain,And I'll cover it oerWi' the flower's o' the mountain;I'll range through the wilds,And the steep glen sae dreary,And return wi' their spoilsTo the bower of my dearie.
While the lads o' the southToil for bare warl'y treasure,To the lads o' the northEvery day brings its pleasure,Tho' simple are the joysThe brave Highlander possesses;Yet he feels no annoys,For he fears no distresses.
When the rude wintry win'Idly raves round his dwelling,And the roar of the linn,On the night breeze is swelling,Then so merrily he'll sing,As the storm rattles o'er him,To the dear sheeling ring,Wi' the light lilting jorum.
Now the summer is in prime,Wi' the flow'rs richly blooming,And the wild mountain thymeA' the moorlands perfuming;To our dear native scenesLet us journey together,Where glad innocence reigns,'Mang the braes of Balquither.