Bess the gawkie, or, Jamie slighted (1802)/The broom of Cowden Knows

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The BROOM of COWDEN KNOWS.

O The broom the bonny bonny broom,
⁠the broom of the Cowden Knows,
I wish I were with my dear swain,
⁠milking my daddy's ewes.

How blythe ilk morn was I to see,
⁠my swain come o'er the hill,
He leapt the burn and flew to me,
⁠I met him with good will

He tuu'd his pipe and reed sae sweet,
⁠the birds stood list'ning by,
Ev'n the dull cattle stood amaz'd,
⁠charm'd with his melody.

I neither wanted ewe nor lamb,
⁠while his flock near me lay,
He gather'd in my sheep at e'en,
⁠and cheer’d me all the day.

He did oblige me every hour,
⁠could I but thankful be!
He stole my heart, who could refuse,
⁠whate'er he ask'd of me.

While thus we spent our time by turns,
⁠betwixt our flocks and play,
I envy'd not the fairest dame
⁠though ne'er so rich and gay.

Hard fate that I should banish'd be,
⁠gang heavily and mourn,
because I love the kindest swain,
⁠that ever yet was born.

Adieu! ye Cowden Knows, adieu!
⁠farewel all pleasures there;
Ye gods, restore to me my swain,
⁠is all I crave or care.