Mr Lyle, in his "Ancient Ballads and Songs" (Lond. 1827, 12mo, p. 138), presents an additional version, which we subjoin. Mr Lyle remarks, that he had revised it from an old stall copy, ascribed to Colonel James Ramsay of Stirling Castle. THE BONNIE LASS O' GOWRIE. A wee bit north frae yon green wood, Whar draps the sunny showerie, The lofty elm-trees spread their boughs, To shade the braes o' Gowrie; An' by yon burn ye scarce can see, There stan's a rustic bowerie, Whar lives a lass mair dear to me Than a' the maids in Gowrie. Nae gentle bard e'er sang her praise, 'Cause fortune ne'er left dowrie; The rose blaws sweetest in the shade, So does the flower o' Gowrie. When April strews her garlands roun', Her bare foot treads the flowerie; Her sang gars a' the woodlands ring, That shade the braes o' Gowrie. Her modest blush an' downcast e'e, A flame sent beating through me; For she surpasses all I've seen, This peerless flower o' Gowrie. I've lain upon the dewy green Until the evening hourie, An' thought gin e'er I durst ca' mine The bonnie lass o' Gowrie. The bushes that o'erhang the burn, Sae verdant and sae flowerie, Can witness that I love alane The bonnie lass o' Gowrie. Let ithers dream an' sigh for wealth, An' fashions fleet and flowery; Gi'e me that heav'nly innocence Upon the braes o' Gowrie. THERE GROWS A BONNIE BRIER BUSH.[56] There grows a bonnie brier bush in our kail-yard, And white are the blossoms o't in our kail-yard, Like wee bit white cockauds to deck our Hieland lads, And the lasses lo'e the bonnie bush in our kail-yard. An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie, An' it 's hame, an' it 's hame to the north countrie, Where my bonnie Jean is waiting for me, Wi' a heart kind and true, in my ain countrie. "But were they a' true that were far awa? Oh! were they a' true that were far awa'? They drew up wi' glaikit Englishers at Carlisle Ha', And forgot auld frien's that were far awa. "Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye 've been, Ye 'll come nae mair, Jamie, to Atholl's green; Ye lo'ed ower weel the dancin' at Carlisle Ha', And forgot the Hieland hills that were far awa'." "I ne'er lo'ed a dance but on Atholl's green, I ne'er lo'ed a lassie but my dorty Jean, Sair, sair against my will did I bide sae lang awa', And my heart was aye in Atholl's green at Carlisle Ha'." * * * * *