The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd Centenary Edition. With a Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Thomson ... Poems and Life. With Many Illustrative Engravings [by James Hogg] |
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Sing on, sing on, my Bonnie Bird.
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 | The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd |  |
Sing on, sing on, my Bonnie Bird.
Sing on, sing on, my bonnie bird,
The sang ye sung yestreen, O,
When here, aneath the hawthorn wild
I met my bonnie Jean, O!
My blude ran prinklin' through my veins,
My hair begoud to steer, O;
My heart play'd deep against my breast,
When I beheld my dear, O!
The sang ye sung yestreen, O,
When here, aneath the hawthorn wild
I met my bonnie Jean, O!
My blude ran prinklin' through my veins,
My hair begoud to steer, O;
My heart play'd deep against my breast,
When I beheld my dear, O!
O weel's me on my happy lot,
O weel's me o' my dearie,
O weel's me o' the charming spot
Where a' combined to cheer me!
The mavis liltit on the bush,
The laverock o'er the green, O,
The lily bloom'd, the daisy blush'd,
But a' war nought to Jean, O!
O weel's me o' my dearie,
O weel's me o' the charming spot
Where a' combined to cheer me!
The mavis liltit on the bush,
The laverock o'er the green, O,
The lily bloom'd, the daisy blush'd,
But a' war nought to Jean, O!
Sing on, sing on, my bonnie thrush,
Be nouther fley'd nor eerie;
I'll wad your love sits in the bush,
That gars ye sing sae cheerie.
She may be kind, she may be sweet,
She may be neat an' clean, O,
But oh, she's but a drysome mate
Compared wi' bonnie Jean, O!
Be nouther fley'd nor eerie;
I'll wad your love sits in the bush,
That gars ye sing sae cheerie.
She may be kind, she may be sweet,
She may be neat an' clean, O,
But oh, she's but a drysome mate
Compared wi' bonnie Jean, O!
If love wad open a' her stores,
An' a' her blooming treasures,
An' bid me rise, an' turn an' choose,
An' taste her chiefest pleasures.
My choice wad be the rosy cheek,
The modest beaming eye, O;
The auburn hair, the bosom fair,
The lips o' coral dye, O!
An' a' her blooming treasures,
An' bid me rise, an' turn an' choose,
An' taste her chiefest pleasures.
My choice wad be the rosy cheek,
The modest beaming eye, O;
The auburn hair, the bosom fair,
The lips o' coral dye, O!
A bramble shade around our head,
A burnie popplin by, O;
Our bed the sward, our sheet the plaid,
Our canopy the sky, O!
An' here's the burn, an' there's the bush,
Around the flowery green, O;
An' this the plaid, an' sure the lass
Wad be my bonnie Jean, O!
A burnie popplin by, O;
Our bed the sward, our sheet the plaid,
Our canopy the sky, O!
An' here's the burn, an' there's the bush,
Around the flowery green, O;
An' this the plaid, an' sure the lass
Wad be my bonnie Jean, O!
Hear me, thou bonnie modest moon,
Ye sternies, twinklin' high, O,
An' a' ye gentle powers aboon,
That roam athwart the sky, O!
Ye see me gratefu' for the past,
Ye saw me blest yestreen, O,
An' ever till I breathe my last,
Ye'll see me true to Jean, O!
Ye sternies, twinklin' high, O,
An' a' ye gentle powers aboon,
That roam athwart the sky, O!
Ye see me gratefu' for the past,
Ye saw me blest yestreen, O,
An' ever till I breathe my last,
Ye'll see me true to Jean, O!
| The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | |