the country lass
in simmer, when the hay was mawn,
and corn wav'd green in ilka field,
while claver blooms white o'er the lea
and roses blaw in ilka beild!
blythe bessie in the milking shiel,
says—“i'll be wed,e o't what will”:
out spake a dame in wrinkled eild;
“o' gude advisementes nae ill.
“it's ye hae wooers mony ane,
and lassie, ye're but young ye ken;
then wait a wee, and cannie wale
a routhie butt, a routhie ben;
there's johnie o' the buskie-glen,
fu' is his barn, fu' is his byre;
take this frae me, my bonie hen,
it's plenty beets the luver's fire.”
“for johnie o' the buskie-glen,
i dinna care a single flie;
he lo'es sae weel his craps and kye,
he has nae love to spare for me;