Poems by James Hyslop ... With a Sketch of his Life, and Notes on his Poems, By the Rev. Peter Mearns |
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| XXXIII. | XXXIII.
Balandine Braes.
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 | Poems by James Hyslop |  |
162
XXXIII.
Balandine Braes.
It was high o'er yon moorland, an' down in a glen
Where the water runs clear, an' the doe makes its den,
In childhood's gay moments, the time glided by
On a soft foggy brae, 'neath a bonnie clear sky;
Sae pure was the air, an' sae charming the lays,
Sung by ilk little bird on sweet Balandine braes—
Sweet Balandine braes, sweet Balandine braes,
Sung by ilk little bird on sweet Balandine braes.
Where the water runs clear, an' the doe makes its den,
In childhood's gay moments, the time glided by
On a soft foggy brae, 'neath a bonnie clear sky;
Sae pure was the air, an' sae charming the lays,
Sung by ilk little bird on sweet Balandine braes—
Sweet Balandine braes, sweet Balandine braes,
Sung by ilk little bird on sweet Balandine braes.
It was there, hand in hand, wi' my Sandy I ran
Over hill, over dale, wi' a branch for my fan;
The flowers sprang to cheer us, the rill murmured by,
While a' nature around shed a beautiful dye.
On the fast fleeting rainbow, wi' wonder, we'd gaze,
As we wandered along by sweet Balandine braes.
Sweet Balandine braes, sweet Balandine braes,
As we wandered along by sweet Balandine braes.
Over hill, over dale, wi' a branch for my fan;
The flowers sprang to cheer us, the rill murmured by,
While a' nature around shed a beautiful dye.
On the fast fleeting rainbow, wi' wonder, we'd gaze,
As we wandered along by sweet Balandine braes.
Sweet Balandine braes, sweet Balandine braes,
As we wandered along by sweet Balandine braes.
Our young hearts were as light as the shadows that flew,
We ne'er thought that love would bring clouds on our brow;
But the laird wanted men to gae out to the war,
My brother and Sandy he sent them afar;
An' left me to mourn, a' the rest o' my days,
For the lad I lo'ed dear on sweet Balandine braes.
Sweet Balandine braes, sweet Balandine braes,
For the lad I lo'ed dear on sweet Balandine braes.
We ne'er thought that love would bring clouds on our brow;
But the laird wanted men to gae out to the war,
My brother and Sandy he sent them afar;
An' left me to mourn, a' the rest o' my days,
For the lad I lo'ed dear on sweet Balandine braes.
Sweet Balandine braes, sweet Balandine braes,
For the lad I lo'ed dear on sweet Balandine braes.
| Poems by James Hyslop | |