3
Brave Scotia’s boys will still rejoice
To hear the name o’ Burns.
Frae morn till night my head grows light
To hear the lasses sing,
His bonuie sang that sane can bang,
It gars my lugs a’ ring;
Its bonnie air can banish care
By ingle side at e’en;
Now cauld’s the heart that ance. did smart.
Frae twa bewitching een.
On Etrick banks, in a summer’s night,
At gloaming, when the-sheep drove liame,
I met my lassie, braw and tight,
Come wading barefoot a’ her lane.
My heart grew light; I ran, and flang
My arms about her lily neck,
And kiss’d and clap’d her there fu’ lang,
My words they were na monie feck.
I said, My lassie will ye gang
To the Highland hills, some Earse to learn?
And I’ll gie thee baith cow and ewe,
When ye come to the brig of Earn.
At Leith auld meal comes in, ne’er fash,
And herrings at the Broomielaw;
