The Highland Plaid (4)/Logan Braes

by John Mayne (1759-1836)

For other versions of this work, see Logan Braes.

LOGAN BRAES.

By Logan streams that rin sae deep,
How aft wi' glee I've herded sheep,
Herded sheep, and gather'd slaes,
Wi' my dear lad on Logan braes.

But now, alas! thae days are gane,
And I wi' grief may herd my lane.
While my dear lad maun face his faes,
Far, far frae me and Logan braes,

Nae mair at Logan kirk will he,
Atween the preachings meet wi' me
Meet wi' me, and when it's mirk,
Convoy me hame frae Logan kirk.

Well may I sing thae days are gane,
Frae kirk and fair I come my lane,
While my dear lad maun face his faes,
Far, far frae me and Logan braes.

Ye powers! my ardent passion prove,
And send me hame my darling love,
And while my ruby lips he prees,
Then could I die on Logan Braes.

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