5
THE LASS O' GLENSHEE.
On a bonny day when the heather was blooming
And the silent hill burn'd wi' the sore laden'd bee,
I met a fair maid as I homeward was riding,
Herding her sheep on the hill of Glenshee.
The rose in her cheek it was gem'd wi a dimple,
And blythe were the blinks o' her bonny black e'e,
Her face so enchanting so neat and so handsome
My heart soon belonged to the Lass of Glenshee.
I kiss'd and carress'd, and said my dear lassie,
If ye would but go to St Johnstoun with me,
None of the fair should walk on the causeway,
With cleading more fine than the Lass of Glenshee.
A carriage of pleasure you shall hae to ride in.
And fouk shall say Mem when they speak unto thee;
Servants you shall hae for to do your biddin,
I'll make you my lady, the Lass of Glenshee
