The Melodist/The Flower of Dunblane

by Anonymous

The Flower of Dunblane.

The sun has gane o'er the lofty Benlomond,
And left the red clouds to preside o'er the scene,
While lanely I stray in the calm simmer gloaming
To muse on sweet Jessie, the flow'r o'Dunblane.

How sweet is the brier wi' its saft faulding blossom!
And sweet is the birk wi' its mantle o' green:
Yet sweeter and fairer, an' dear to this bosom,
Is lovely young Jessie, the flow’r o’ Dunblane.

She’s modest as ony. an' blythe as she's bonny,
For guileless simplicity marks her its ain;
An' far be the villain, divested o' feeling,
Wha'd blight in its bloom the sweet flow'r o' Dunblane.
Sing on, thou sweet mavis, thy hymn to the e'ening;
Thou'rt dear to the echoes o' Calderwood glen:
Sae dear to tais bosom, sae artless and winning,
Is charming young Jessie, the flow'r o' Dunblane

How lost ware my days 'til I met wi' my Jessie!
The sports o' the city seem'd foolish and vain:
I ne'er saw a nymph I would ca' my dear lassie,
'Till charm'd wi' sweet Jessie, the flow'r o' Dunblane!
Tho' mine were the station o' loftiest grandeur.
Amidst its profusion I'd languish in pain;
An' reckon a naething the height o' its splendour,
If wanting sweet Jessie, the flaw'r o' Dunblane.

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