She's such a simple, sweet young thing, Dressed in her country costume. My wits had used to know the Spring, Till I saw, and loved, and lost 'em. How quietly the lily lies Upon the deepest water! How sweet to me the Summer skies! And so's the Shepherd's Daughter-- With lily breast and rosy face The sweetest maid in any place. My singing bird, my bonny flower, How dearly could I love thee! To sit with thee one pleasant hour, If thou would'st but approve me! I swear by lilies white and yellow, That flower on deepest water, Would'st thou but make me happy fellow, I'd wed the Shepherd's Daughter! By all that's on the earth or water, I more than love the Shepherd's Daughter. LASSIE, I LOVE THEE Lassie, I love thee! The heavens above thee Look downwards to move thee, And prove my love true. My arms round thy waist, love, My head on thy breast, love; By a true man caressed love, Ne'er bid me adieu. Thy cheek's full o' blushes, Like the rose in the bushes, While my love ardent gushes With over delight. Though clouds may come o'er thee, Sweet maid, I'll adore thee, As I do now before thee: I love thee outright. It stings me to madness To see thee all gladness, While I'm full of sadness Thy meaning to guess. Thy gown is deep blue, love, In honour of true love: Ever thinking of you, love, My love I'll confess. My love ever showing, Thy heart worth the knowing, It is like the sun glowing, And hid in thy breast. Thy lover behold me; To my bosom I'll fold thee, For thou, love, thou'st just told me, So here thou may'st rest. THE GIPSY LASS Just like the berry brown is my bonny lassie O! And in the smoky camp lives my bonny lassie O! Where the scented woodbine weaves Round the white-thorn's glossy leaves: The sweetest maid on earth is my gipsy lassie O! The brook it runs so clear by my bonny lassie O! And the blackbird singeth near my bonny lassie O! And there the wild briar rose Wrinkles the clear stream as it flows By the smoky camp of my bonny lassie O! The groundlark singeth high o'er my bonny lassie O! The nightingale lives nigh my gipsy lassie O! They're with her all the year, By the brook that runs so clear, And there's none in all the world like my gipsy lassie O! With a bosom white as snow is my gipsy lassie O! With a foot like to the roe is my bonny lassie O! Like the sweet birds she will sing, While echo it will ring: Sure there's none in the world like my bonny lassie O! AT THE FOOT OF CLIFFORD HILL Who loves the white-thorn tree, And the river running free? There a maiden stood with me In Summer weather. Near a cottage far from town, While the sun went brightly down O'er the meadows green and brown, We loved together.