The poetical works of William Nicholson With a memoir by Malcolm M'L. Harper ... Fourth edition |
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SONG.
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 | The poetical works of William Nicholson |  |
SONG.
[Oh! will ye go to yon burn side]
Oh! will ye go to yon burn side,
Amang the new made hay,
And sport upon the flowery swaird,
My ain dear May?
Amang the new made hay,
And sport upon the flowery swaird,
My ain dear May?
The sun blinks blythe on yon burn side,
Where lambkins lightly play,
The wild bird whistles to his mate,
My ain dear May.
Where lambkins lightly play,
The wild bird whistles to his mate,
My ain dear May.
The waving woods, wi' mantle green,
Shall shield us in the bower,
Where I'll pu' a posy for my May,
O' mony a bonny flower.
Shall shield us in the bower,
Where I'll pu' a posy for my May,
O' mony a bonny flower.
My father maws ayont the burn,
My mammy spins at hame;
And should they see thee here wi' me,
I'd better been my lane.
My mammy spins at hame;
And should they see thee here wi' me,
I'd better been my lane.
189
The lightsome lammie little kens
What troubles it await—
When ance the flush o' spring is o'er,
The fause bird lea'es its mate.
What troubles it await—
When ance the flush o' spring is o'er,
The fause bird lea'es its mate.
The flowers will fade, the woods decay,
And lose their bonny green;
The sun wi' clouds may be o'ercast,
Before that it be e'en.
And lose their bonny green;
The sun wi' clouds may be o'ercast,
Before that it be e'en.
Ilk thing is in its season sweet;
So love is, in its noon;
But cankering Time may foil the flower,
And spoil its bonny bloom.
So love is, in its noon;
But cankering Time may foil the flower,
And spoil its bonny bloom.
Oh! come then while the summer shines,
And love is young and gay;
Ere age his withering, wintry blast
Blaws o'er me and my May.
And love is young and gay;
Ere age his withering, wintry blast
Blaws o'er me and my May.
For thee I'll tend the fleecy flocks,
Or haud the halesome plough,
And nightly clasp thee to my breast,
And prove aye leal and true.
Or haud the halesome plough,
And nightly clasp thee to my breast,
And prove aye leal and true.
The blush o'erspread her bonny face,
She had nae mair to say,
But ga'e her hand and walked alang,
The youthfu' bloomin' May.
She had nae mair to say,
But ga'e her hand and walked alang,
The youthfu' bloomin' May.
| The poetical works of William Nicholson | |