The Highland Plaid (1)/Mark Yonder Pomp
For other versions of this work, see Mark Yonder Pomp.
MARK YONDER POMP.
Tune—Deil tak the wars.
Mark yonder pomp of courtly fashion,
Round the wealthy, titled brides
But when compar'd wi' real passion,
Poor is all that princely pride,
What are the showy treasures!
What are the noisy pleasures!
The gay, gaudy glare of vanity and art.
The polish'd jewel's blaze
May draw the wond'ring gaze,
And courtly grandeur bright
The fancy may delight,
But never, never can come near the heart.
Round the wealthy, titled brides
But when compar'd wi' real passion,
Poor is all that princely pride,
What are the showy treasures!
What are the noisy pleasures!
The gay, gaudy glare of vanity and art.
The polish'd jewel's blaze
May draw the wond'ring gaze,
And courtly grandeur bright
The fancy may delight,
But never, never can come near the heart.
But did you see my dearest Chloris,
In simplicity's array;
Lovely as yonder sweet op'ning flower is,
Shrinking from the gaze of day.
O then the heart alarming,
And all resistless charming,
In Love's delightful fetters she chain the willing soul,
Ambition would disown
The world's imperial crown,
Even avarice would deny
His worshipp'd deity,
And feel through every vein love's raptures roll
In simplicity's array;
Lovely as yonder sweet op'ning flower is,
Shrinking from the gaze of day.
O then the heart alarming,
And all resistless charming,
In Love's delightful fetters she chain the willing soul,
Ambition would disown
The world's imperial crown,
Even avarice would deny
His worshipp'd deity,
And feel through every vein love's raptures roll