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| THERE was a lass, and she was fair, | |
| At kirk or market to be seen; | |
| When a’ our fairest maids were met, | |
| The fairest maid was bonie Jean. | |
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| And aye she wrought her mammie’s wark, | 5 |
| And aye she sang sae merrilie; | |
| The blythest bird upon the bush | |
| Had ne’er a lighter heart than she. | |
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| But hawks will rob the tender joys | |
| That bless the little lintwhite’s nest; | 10 |
| And frost will blight the fairest flowers, | |
| And love will break the soundest rest. | |
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| Young Robie was the brawest lad, | |
| The flower and pride of a’ the glen; | |
| And he had owsen, sheep, and kye, | 15 |
| And wanton naigies nine or ten. | |
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| He gaed wi’ Jeanie to the tryste, | |
| He danc’d wi’ Jeanie on the down; | |
| And, lang ere witless Jeanie wist, | |
| Her heart was tint, her peace was stown! | 20 |
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| As in the bosom of the stream, | |
| The moon-beam dwells at dewy e’en; | |
| So trembling, pure, was tender love | |
| Within the breast of bonie Jean. | |
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| And now she works her mammie’s wark, | 25 |
| And aye she sighs wi’ care and pain; | |
| Yet wist na what her ail might be, | |
| Or what wad make her weel again. | |
| |
| But did na Jeanie’s heart loup light, | |
| And didna joy blink in her e’e, | 30 |
| As Robie tauld a tale o’ love | |
| Ae e’ening on the lily lea? | |
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| The sun was sinking in the west, | |
| The birds sang sweet in ilka grove; | |
| His cheek to hers he fondly laid, | 35 |
| And whisper’d thus his tale o’ love: | |
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| “O Jeanie fair, I lo’e thee dear; | |
| O canst thou think to fancy me, | |
| Or wilt thou leave thy mammie’s cot, | |
| And learn to tent the farms wi’ me? | 40 |
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| “At barn or byre thou shalt na drudge, | |
| Or naething else to trouble thee; | |
| But stray amang the heather-bells, | |
| And tent the waving corn wi’ me.” | |
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| Now what could artless Jeanie do? | 45 |
| She had nae will to say him na: | |
| At length she blush’d a sweet consent, | |
| And love was aye between them twa. | |
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