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Thus we gaily sing,
While time is on the wing,
Who's so happy, so happy as we?
The nut-brown ale we quaff,
And revel, sing, and laugh,
All under the Greenwood Tree.
While time is on the wing,
Who's so happy, so happy as we?
The nut-brown ale we quaff,
And revel, sing, and laugh,
All under the Greenwood Tree.
The Lass o' Arranteenie.
By Tannahill.
Forlorn amang the Highland hills,
'Midst nature's wildest grandeur,
By rocky dens, an' woody glens,
With weary steps I wander:
The langsome way, the darksome day,
The mountain-mist sae rainy,
Are nought to me when gaun to thee,
Sweet Lass o' Arranteenie.
'Midst nature's wildest grandeur,
By rocky dens, an' woody glens,
With weary steps I wander:
The langsome way, the darksome day,
The mountain-mist sae rainy,
Are nought to me when gaun to thee,
Sweet Lass o' Arranteenie.
Yon mossy rose-bud down the howe.
Just op'ning fresh an' bonny,
Blinks sweetly 'neath the hazle-bough,
An's scarcely seen by ony:
Sae, sweet amidst her native hills,
Obscurely blooms my Jeany,
Mair fair and gay than rosy May,
The flow'r o' Arranteenie.
Just op'ning fresh an' bonny,
Blinks sweetly 'neath the hazle-bough,
An's scarcely seen by ony:
Sae, sweet amidst her native hills,
Obscurely blooms my Jeany,
Mair fair and gay than rosy May,
The flow'r o' Arranteenie.
