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7
By Oughterfyre grows the aik,
On Yarrow Banks the birken shaw;
But Phemie was a bonnier lass,
Ihan braes of Yarrow ever saw
Blithe, &c
On Yarrow Banks the birken shaw;
But Phemie was a bonnier lass,
Ihan braes of Yarrow ever saw
Blithe, &c
Her looks were like the flow'r in May.
Her smile was like a summer morn;
She tripped by the banks of Ern,
As light's a bird upon a thorn.
Blithe, &c.
Her smile was like a summer morn;
She tripped by the banks of Ern,
As light's a bird upon a thorn.
Blithe, &c.
Her bonny face, it was as meek
As ony lamb upon a lee,
The e'ening sun was ne'er sae sweet,
As was the blink o' Phemie's ee.
Blithe &c.
As ony lamb upon a lee,
The e'ening sun was ne'er sae sweet,
As was the blink o' Phemie's ee.
Blithe &c.
The Highland bills I've wander'd wide,
And o'er the Lowlands I hae been,
But Phemie was the blithest lass,
That ever tred the dewy green.
Blithe, &c.
And o'er the Lowlands I hae been,
But Phemie was the blithest lass,
That ever tred the dewy green.
Blithe, &c.
Tom Bowling.
HERE a sheer hulk lies poor Tom Bowling,
The darling of our crew;
No more he'll hear the tempest howling,
For death has brought him too.
The darling of our crew;
No more he'll hear the tempest howling,
For death has brought him too.
