OH MOUNT AND COME.
SONG XVII.
1
Oh mount and come, mount and make you ready,
Come my lovesome dame, and be a captain's lady;
Pleasant in spring time to hear the blackbirds whistle,
Bagpipes blyther lilt 'neath the untrodden thistle.
2
When sprightly trumpets sound, and pennons are a streaming,
Stand on a hill top, and see my claymore gleaming;
There thy rosie palm, or heaving bosom show me,
Wight he'll wield his brand that disnae droop below me.
3
And when our Scotish swords still wars wild commotion,
Homewards shall we come, sounding o'er the ocean;
She turned of lillie hue, syne like a rose bud ruddie,
And sunk into his arms, “I'll be a Captain's Lady.”
