O MY LOVE IS A COUNTRY LASS.
1
O my love is a country lass,
And I am but a country laddie;
But true love is nae gentleman,
And sweetness is nae lofty lady.
I make my bed 'mang brackens green;
My light's the moon, round, bright, an' bonnie;
And there I muse the summer night
On her, my leal and lovely Jeanie.
2
Her gown spun by her ain white hand;
Her coat sae trim of snowy plaiden;
Is there a dame in all the land
Sae lady-like in silk and satin?
Though minstrel lore is all my wealth;
Let gowks love gold and mailens many,
I'm rich enough when I have thee,
My witty, winsome, lovely Jeanie.
3
O! have you seen her at the kirk,
Her brow with meek devotion glowing?
Or got ae glance of her bright eye,
Frae 'neath her tresses dark and flowing?
Or heard her voice breathe out such words
As angels use—sweet, but not many?
And have ye dream'd of aught sinsyne,
Save her, my fair, my lovely Jeanie?
