The Broomy Brae.
[By John Jack, Rutherglen.]
How dear to me yon broomy knowe,
By a' the places roun',
The birdies there ha'e blyther notes,
The burn a sweeter soun';
The hawthorn bush blooms richer far,
The flowers appear mair gay,
And nature wears a brighter hue,
On yonder broomy brae.
There first I tauld my artless love,
And met a kind return;
There first I preed my lassie's mou'
Beside the wimplin' burn:
And aft to that sequester'd spot,
At hour o' gloamin' grey,
I gang to meet my ain dear lass,
On yonder broomy brae.