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27
THE
LASS OF TORRANCE-GLEN[1]
(Tune—Blythe was she, &c.)
Ae sweetly-smiling simmer morn,
When nature bloom’d in a’ her pride,
I wander’d thoughtless thro’ the groves
That deck the braes on Calder-side.
When nature bloom’d in a’ her pride,
I wander’d thoughtless thro’ the groves
That deck the braes on Calder-side.
Blythe, blythe, and merry was I,
Blyther than the maist of men;
Now, alas! I’ve lost my heart
Amang the groves of Torrance-glen.
Blyther than the maist of men;
Now, alas! I’ve lost my heart
Amang the groves of Torrance-glen.
To watch the feather'd warblers' song,
I lean'd me down beneath a thorn,
When soon a bonny lass I spy’d,
Was sweeter than the vernal morn.
Blythe, blythe, &c.
I lean'd me down beneath a thorn,
When soon a bonny lass I spy’d,
Was sweeter than the vernal morn.
Blythe, blythe, &c.
Her een was like the glomin’ star,
And glitterin’ was her gowden hair;
There’s no a lass round Britain’s Isle
With my sweet Mary can compare.
Blythe, blythe, &c.
And glitterin’ was her gowden hair;
There’s no a lass round Britain’s Isle
With my sweet Mary can compare.
Blythe, blythe, &c.
- ↑ The Glen of Torrance is a beautiful romantic valley, on the banks of Calder, on the Estate of the late Alex Stuart, Esq. of Torrance, Parish of East Kilbride, about eight miles from Glasgow.
