My ain Bonnie May.
[William Nicholson.]
O will ye go to yon burn side,
Amang the new-made hay,
And sport upon the flowery swaird,
My ain bonnie May?
The sun blinks blithe on yon burn side,
Whare lambkins lightly play;
The wild bird whistles to his mate,
My ain bonnie May.
The waving woods, wi' mantle green,
Shall shield us in the bower,
Whare I'll pu' a posie for my May,
O' mony a bonnie flower.
My father maws ayont the burn,
To spin my mammy's gane;
And should they see thee here wi' me,
I'd better been my lane.
The lightsome lammie little kens
What troubles it await:
Whan ance the flush o' spring is o'er,
The fause bird lea'es its mate.
The flow'rs will fade, the woods decay,
And lose their bonnie green;
The sun wi' clouds may be o'ercast,
Before that it be e'en.
Ilk thing is in its season sweet;
So love is, in its noon:
But cank'ring time may soil the flow'r,
And spoil its bonnie bloom.
O, come then, while the summer shines,
And love is young and gay;
Ere age his with'ring, wintry blast
Blaws o'er me and my May.
For thee I'll tend the fleecy flocks,
Or haud the halesome plough,
And nightly clasp thee to my breast,
And prove aye leal and true.
The blush o'erspread her bonnie face,
She had nae mair to say,
But ga'e her hand, and walk'd alang,
The youthfu' bloomin' May.