 | The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill |  |
8
OUR BONNIE SCOTS LADS.
Our bonnie Scots lads in their green tartan plaids,
Their blue-belted bonnets, and feathers sae braw,
Ranked up on the green were fair to be seen,
But my bonnie young laddie was fairest of a'.
His cheeks were as red as the sweet heather-bell,
Or the red western cloud looking down on the snaw;
His lang yellow hair o'er his braid shoulders fell,
And the een o' the lasses were fixed on him a'.
Their blue-belted bonnets, and feathers sae braw,
Ranked up on the green were fair to be seen,
But my bonnie young laddie was fairest of a'.
His cheeks were as red as the sweet heather-bell,
Or the red western cloud looking down on the snaw;
His lang yellow hair o'er his braid shoulders fell,
And the een o' the lasses were fixed on him a'.
My heart sunk wi' wae on the wearifu' day,
When, torn frae my bosom, they marched him awa';
He bade me farewell; he cried, “Oh, be leal!”
And his red cheeks were wet wi' the tears that did fa'.
Ah! Harry, my love, though thou ne'er shouldst return,
Till life's latest hour I thy absence will mourn;
And mem'ry shall fade like a leaf on the tree,
Ere my heart spare ae thought on anither but thee.
When, torn frae my bosom, they marched him awa';
He bade me farewell; he cried, “Oh, be leal!”
And his red cheeks were wet wi' the tears that did fa'.
Ah! Harry, my love, though thou ne'er shouldst return,
Till life's latest hour I thy absence will mourn;
And mem'ry shall fade like a leaf on the tree,
Ere my heart spare ae thought on anither but thee.
| The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill | |