the soldier's return
air—“the mill, mill, o.”
when wild war's deadly blast was blawn,
and gentle peace returning,
wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless,
and mony a widow mourning;
i left the lines and tented field,
where lang i'd been a lodger,
my humble knapsack a' my wealth,
a poor and honest sodger.
a leal, light heart was in my breast,
my hand unstain'd wi' plunder;
and for fair scotia hame again,
i cheery on did wander:
i thought upon the banks o' coil,
i thought upon my nancy,
i thought upon the witching smile
that caught my youthful fancy.
at length i reach'd the bonie glen,
where early life i sported;
i pass'd the mill and trysting thorn,
where nancy aft i courted:
wha spied i but my ain dear maid,
down by her mother's dwelling!
and turn'd me round to hide the flood
that in my een was swelling.
wi' alter'd voice, "h i, “sweet lass,
sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom,
o! happy, happy may he be,
that's dearest to thy bosom:
my purse is light, i've far to gang,
and fain would be thy lodger;
i've serv'd my king and country lang—