Red gleams the sun on yon
hill-tap,
The dew sits on
the gowan;
Deep murmurs through her glens
the Spey,
Around Kinrara
rowan.
Where art thou, fairest, kindest
lass?
Alas! wert thou
but near me,
Thy gentle soul, thy melting
eye,
Would ever, ever
cheer me.
The lav’rock sings among
the clouds,
The lambs they
sport so cheerie,
And I sit weeping by the birk:
O where art thou,
my dearie?
Aft may I meet the morning
dew,
Lang greet till
I be weary;
Thou canna, winna, gentle
maid!
Thou canna be
my dearie.
THE SHEELING.
TUNE—"The Mucking o’ Geordie’s Byre."
Oh, grand bounds the deer
o’er the mountain,
And smooth skims
the hare o’er the plain;
At noon, the cool shade by
the fountain
Is sweet to the
lass and her swain.
The ev’ning sits down
dark and dreary;
Oh, yon ‘s
the loud joys of the ha’;
The laird sings his dogs and
his dearie—
Oh, he kens na
his singin’ ava.
But oh, my dear lassie, when
wi’ thee,
What ’s
the deer and the maukin to me?
The storm soughin’ wild
drives me to thee,
And the plaid
shelters baith me and thee.
The wild warld then may be
reeling,
Pride and riches
may lift up their e’e;
My plaid haps us baith in
the sheeling—
That ‘s
a’ to my lassie and me.
THE EWE-BUGHTS, MARION.[6]
Oh, mind ye the ewe-bughts,
my Marion?
It was ther I
forgather’d wi’ thee;
The sun smiled sweet ower
the mountain,
And saft sough’d
the leaf on the tree.
Thou wast fair, thou wast
bonnie, my Marion,
And lovesome thy
rising breast-bane;
The dew sat in gems ower thy
ringlets,
By the thorn when
we were alane.
There we loved, there thou
promised, my Marion,
Thy soul—a’
thy beauties were mine;
Crouse we skipt to the ha’
i’ the gloamin’,
But few were my
slumbers and thine.
Fell war tore me lang frae
thee, Marion,
Lang wat’ry
and red was my e’e;
The pride o’ the field
but inflamed me
To return mair
worthy o’ thee.
Oh, aye art thou lovely, my
Marion,
Thy heart bounds
in kindness to me;
And here, oh, here is my bosom,
That languish’d,
my Marion, for thee.
[6] These verses form a modernised version of the old and popular song, “Will ye gae to the ewe-bughts, Marion?” The air is extremely beautiful.