The Flower o' Dunblane.
[This once universally popular song, written by Tannahill, and set to music by R. A. Smith, was first introduced to the public in the year 1808. "The third stanza," says Smith, "was not written till several months after the others were finished. The poet," he adds, "had no particular fair one in his eye at the time, and Jessie was quite an imaginary personage." The truth is, Tannahill wrote the words to supplant the old coarse song, called "Bob o' Dunblane"—hence the title. He never was in Dunblane, but from his favourite Braes o' Gleniffer had often doubtless seen the sun go down o'er the lofty Ben Lomond.]
The sun has gane down o'er the lofty Ben Lomond,
And left the red clouds to preside o'er the scene,
While lonely I stray, in the calm simmer gloamin',
To muse on sweet Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane.
How sweet is the brier, wi' its saft fauldin' blossom!
And sweet is the birk, wi' its mantle o' green;
Yet sweeter and fairer, and dear to this bosom,
Is lovely young Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane.
She's modest as onie, and blythe as she's bonnie;
For guileless simplicity marks her its ain;
And far be the villain, divested o' feeling,
Wha'd blight in its bloom the sweet flower o' Dunblane.
Sing on, thou sweet mavis, thy hymn to the e'ening,
Thou'rt dear to the echoes of Calderwood glen;
Sae dear to this bosom, sae artless and winning,
Is charming young Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane.
How lost were my days till I met wi' my Jessie!
The sports o' the city seemed foolish and vain;
I ne'er saw a nymph I could ca' my dear lassie,
Till charmed wi' sweet Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane.
Though mine were the station o' loftiest grandeur,
Amidst its profusion I'd languish in pain,
And reckon as naething the height o' its splendour,
If wanting sweet Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane.