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The works of Allan Ramsay

edited by Burns Martin ... and John W. Oliver [... and Alexander M. Kinghorn ... and Alexander Law]

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SANG XVIII. Tweed-side.

[_]

Sung by Peggy, p. 68. [P. 262, l. 174: as alternative to ll. 163–174.]

When hope was quite sunk in despair,
My heart it was going to break;
My life appear'd worthless my care,
But now I will sav't for thy sake.
Where'er my love travels by day,
Wherever he lodges by night,
With me his dear image shall stay,
And my soul keep him e'er in sight.
With patience I'll wait the long year,
And study the gentlest charms;
Hope time away till thou appear,
To lock thee for ay in those arms.
Whilst thou wast a shepherd, I priz'd
No higher degree in this life;
But now I'll endeavour to rise
To a height is becoming thy wife.
For beauty that's only skin deep,
Must fade like the gowans of May,
But inwardly rooted, will keep
For ever, without a decay.

77

Nor age, nor the changes of life,
Can quench the fair fire of love,
If virtue's ingrain'd in the wife,
And the husband have sense to approve.