song.—o, were i on parnassus hill
tune—“my love is lost to me.”
o, were i on parnassus hill,
or had o' helicon my fill,
that i might catch poetic skill,
to sing how dear i love thee!
but nith maun be my muse's well,
my muse maun be thy bonie sel',
on corsincon i'll glowr and spell,
and write how dear i love thee.
thene, sweet muse, inspire my lay!
for a' the lee-lang simmer's day
i couldna sing, i couldna say,