The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill With biography, illustrations, and music |
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FROM THE RUDE BUSTLING CAMP. |
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 | The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill |  |
16
FROM THE RUDE BUSTLING CAMP.
From the rude bustling camp to the calm rural plain,
I 'm come, my dear Jeanie, to bless thee again;
Still burning for honour our warriors may roam,
But the laurel I wished for, I 've won it at home.
All the glories of conquest no joy could impart,
When far from the kind little girl of my heart;
Now, safely returned, I will leave thee no more,
But love my dear Jeanie till life's latest hour.
I 'm come, my dear Jeanie, to bless thee again;
Still burning for honour our warriors may roam,
But the laurel I wished for, I 've won it at home.
All the glories of conquest no joy could impart,
When far from the kind little girl of my heart;
Now, safely returned, I will leave thee no more,
But love my dear Jeanie till life's latest hour.
The sweets of retirement, how pleasing to me;
Possessing all worth, my dear Jeanie, in thee!
Our flocks' early bleating will wake us to joy,
And our raptures exceed the warm tints in the sky!
In sweet rural pastimes our days still will glide,
Till Time, looking back, will admire at his speed;
Still blooming in virtue, though youth then be o'er,
I 'll love my dear Jeanie till life's latest hour.
Possessing all worth, my dear Jeanie, in thee!
Our flocks' early bleating will wake us to joy,
And our raptures exceed the warm tints in the sky!
In sweet rural pastimes our days still will glide,
Till Time, looking back, will admire at his speed;
Still blooming in virtue, though youth then be o'er,
I 'll love my dear Jeanie till life's latest hour.
| The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill | |