When the kye come hame.
[This spirited song by the Ettrick Shepherd first appeared in his novel entitled "The Three Perils of Man," 1821, 3 vols. It is sung to the old tune of "The Blathrie o't."]
Come all ye jolly shepherds
That whistle through the glen,
I'll tell ye of a secret
That courtiers dinna ken.
What is the greatest bliss
That the tongue o' man can name?
'Tis to woo a bonnie lassie
When the kye come hame.
When the kye come hame,
When the kye come hame,
'Tween the gloamin and the mirk,
When the kye come hame.
'Tis not beneath the burgonet,
Nor yet beneath the crown,
'Tis not on couch of velvet,
Nor yet on bed of down:
'Tis beneath the spreading birch,
In the dell without a name,
Wi' a bonnie, bonnie lassie,
When the kye come hame.
There the blackbird bigs his nest
For the mate he loves to see,
And up upon the tapmost bough,
Oh, a happy bird is he!
Then he pours his melting ditty,
And love 'tis a' the theme,
And he'll woo his bonnie lassie
When the kye come hame.
When the bluart bears a pearl,
And the daisy turns a pea,
And the bonnie lucken gowan
Has fauld it up his e'e,
Then the laverock frae the blue lift
Draps down, and thinks nae shame
To woo his bonnie lassie
When the kye come hame.
Then the eye shines sae bright,
The haill soul to beguile,
There's love in every whisper,
And joy in evety smile;
O, who would choose a crown,
Wi' its perils and its fame,
And miss a bonnie lassie
When the kye come hame?
See yonder pawky shepherd
That lingers on the hill—
His yowes are in the fauld,
And his lambs are lying still;
Yet he downa gang to rest,
For his heart is in a flame,
To meet his bonnie lassie,
When the kye come hame.
Awa' wi' fame and fortune—
What comfort can they gi'e—
And a' the arts that prey
On man's life and libertie!
Gi'e me the highest joy
That the heart o' man can frame,
My bonnie, bonnie lassie,
When the kye come hame.
The Brakens wi' me.
[James Hogg.—Air, "Driving the Steer."]
I'll sing of yon glen o' red heather,
An' a dear thing that ca's it her hame,
Wha's a' made o' love life together,
Frae the tie o' the shoe to the kembe.
Love beckons in ev'ry sweet motion,
Commanding due homage to gi'e;
But the shrine of my dearest devotion
Is the bend o' her bonnie e'e bree.
I fleech'd and I prayd the dear lassie
To gang to the brakens wi' me,
But though neither lordly nor saucy,
Her answer was, "Laith will I be.
Ah! is it nae cruel to press me
To that which wad breed my heart wae,
An' try to entice a poor lassie
The gate she's o'er ready to gae.
"I neither ha'e father nor mither,
Good counsel or caution to gi'e,
And prudence has whisper'd me never
