2
The Braes o' Lomond.
’Twas on a Friday afternoon
I took a trip about Glenfroin,
To see a Concert there begin
Amang the braes o' Lomond.
That day the snaw lay on the trees,
Bright Phœbus had withdrawn his rays,
An' winter had put on her claithes,
Amang the braes o' Lomond.
But tho' without was wet and cauld,
Within we were baith blythe and bauld,
Wi' vocal airs frae young and auld,
Amang the braes o' Lomond.
For the braw lasses o' the glen,
(But for their names I dinna ken)
They danc'd and sang till I grew fain,
Amang the braes o' Lomond.
Their vocal strains war' sweet and rare,
Nought wi' their dancing could compare,
Assembly Balls are naething mair
Than Concerts at Lochlomond.
For a' the youths were dress’d sae gay,
Their music did sae sweetly play,
That ilka heart, till break of day,
Rejoic'd about Lochlomond.
