The Book of Scottish Song/The light of Glen Fruin

The light of Glen Fruin.

[This and the following song were written by a young man of the already poetically-occupied name of Dryden, and first appeared in "The Portfolio of British Song," Glasgow, 1824.—Tune, "Braes of Balquither."]

The sun on the billow
In glory reposes,
And his watery pillow
Is garnish'd with roses;
The cloud of the twilight
Its dew drops are strewing,
It will chill my young Flora,
The light of Glen Fruin.

Away by the cottage
That stands 'neath the mountain—
Away by the dark pine
That nods o'er the fountain,
On the banks of the streamlet
That girdles yon ruin—
I'll meet my young Flora,
The light of Glen Fruin.

Thou maid of the mountain,
I love thee—how well,
My love-burning eye
And my pale cheek can tell;
I must love thee for ever
Though 'twere my undoing,
Thou pride of the hamlet,
The light of Glen Fruin.

By the soft beaming ray
That gleams from those eyes,
By that love blushing cheek,
By those murmuring sighs,
By the bright tear of rapture
Those eye-lashes dewing,
Thou art mine—thou art mine—
Dearest maid of Glen Fruin!

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