Life and Songs of the Baroness Nairne With a Memoir and Poems of Caroline Oliphant the Younger: Edited by the Rev. Charles Rogers ... With a Portrait and Other Illustrations |
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THE LASS O' GOWRIE. |
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 | Life and Songs of the Baroness Nairne |  |
7
THE LASS O' GOWRIE.
'Twas on a summer's afternoon,
A wee afore the sun gaed doun,
A lassie wi' a braw new goun
Came owre the hills to Gowrie.
The rose-bud wash'd in summer's shower,
Bloom'd fresh within the sunny bower;
But Kitty was the fairest flower
That e'er was seen in Gowrie.
A wee afore the sun gaed doun,
A lassie wi' a braw new goun
Came owre the hills to Gowrie.
The rose-bud wash'd in summer's shower,
Bloom'd fresh within the sunny bower;
But Kitty was the fairest flower
That e'er was seen in Gowrie.
To see her cousin she cam' there;
An' oh! the scene was passing fair;
For what in Scotland can compare
Wi' the Carse o' Gowrie?
The sun was setting on the Tay,
The blue hills melting into grey,
The mavis and the blackbird's lay
Were sweetly heard in Gowrie.
An' oh! the scene was passing fair;
For what in Scotland can compare
Wi' the Carse o' Gowrie?
The sun was setting on the Tay,
The blue hills melting into grey,
The mavis and the blackbird's lay
Were sweetly heard in Gowrie.
O lang the lassie I had woo'd,
An' truth and constancy had vow'd,
But cam' nae speed wi' her I lo'ed,
Until she saw fair Gowrie.
I pointed to my faither's ha',
Yon bonnie bield ayont the shaw,
Sae loun' that there nae blast could blaw,
Wad she no bide in Gowrie.
An' truth and constancy had vow'd,
But cam' nae speed wi' her I lo'ed,
Until she saw fair Gowrie.
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Yon bonnie bield ayont the shaw,
Sae loun' that there nae blast could blaw,
Wad she no bide in Gowrie.
Her faither was baith glad and wae;
Her mither she wad naething say;
The bairnies thocht they wad get play,
If Kitty gaed to Gowrie.
She whiles did smile, she whiles did greet,
The blush and tear were on her cheek—
She naething said, an' hung her head;
But now she's Leddy Gowrie.
Her mither she wad naething say;
The bairnies thocht they wad get play,
If Kitty gaed to Gowrie.
She whiles did smile, she whiles did greet,
The blush and tear were on her cheek—
She naething said, an' hung her head;
But now she's Leddy Gowrie.
| Life and Songs of the Baroness Nairne | |