THE BONNIE LASSIE.
SONG XXXI.
1
My damsel with the raven locks is young and blate witha',
'Twin cherries are her lips, and her bosom is the snaw;
The lillie of the wilderness blooms fairest flower of a',
Where there's nought save the dew in its bosom to fa'.
2
My love is like a seed dropp'd of a precious flow'r,
By the ruddy gowdspink in its green forest bow'r;
A heaven nourish'd plant by the sun and balmy show'r,
And none save the wild birds ken of its flow'r.
3
For lightsome are her looks as the May morning's e'e,
Her lips are like a rose-bud unsuck'd by the bee;
She is the light of morning in every body's e'e,
And the drop of dearest blood in this bosom to me.
4
A coffer of gold is a treasury of care,
The heart that is lock'd in't has no love to spare;
My lassie's breast's a coffer, and my heart's lock'd there,
And of love we're as fou as the birds when they pair.
5
When drops the summer sun ahint Terreagle's knowes,
Sweet sounds the small birds' song through the low bloomy howes;
Sweet comes my maiden's song 'mang the green waving cowes,
Delighting old and young as she ca's home the ewes.
6
A young maiden's kindest, a young maiden's best,
She's like the merles' gorline stolen out of the nest;
It sings aye the sweeter the more it is carest,
And 'twill nestle near your bosom at evening to rest.
7
For sixteen is a honey pear, beginning for to blow,
Seventeen is its golden cheek, just ready for to show;
Eighteen is drop ripe, and tempting witha',
And nineteen is pou't, if ye e'er pou't at a'.
