Wi’ lightsome heart I pu’d a rose Upon a morn in June; And sae I flourish’d on the morn, And sae was pu’d or’ noon. _498._ or’] ere. Wi’ lightsome heart I pu’d a rose Upon its thorny tree; But my fause luver staw my rose, And left the thorn wi’ me. _498._ staw] stole. _499._ _Ae Fond Kiss_ Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, alas, for ever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee! Who shall say that Fortune grieves him While the star of hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerfu’ twinkle lights me, Dark despair around benights me. I’ll ne’er blame my partial fancy; Naething could resist my Nancy; But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never loved sae kindly, Had we never loved sae blindly, Never met--or never parted, We had ne’er been broken-hearted. Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest! Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest! Thine be ilka joy and treasure, Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure! Ae fond kiss, and then we sever! Ae fareweel, alas, for ever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee! _499._ wage] stake, plight. _500._ _Bonnie Lesley_ O saw ye bonnie Lesley As she gaed o’er the Border? She’s gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther. To see her is to love her, And love but her for ever; For Nature made her what she is, And ne’er made sic anither! Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, Thy subjects we, before thee: Thou art divine, fair Lesley, The hearts o’ men adore thee. The Deil he couldna scaith thee, Or aught that wad belang thee; He’d look into thy bonnie face And say, ‘I canna wrang thee!’ The Powers aboon will tent thee, Misfortune sha’na steer thee: Thou’rt like themsel’ sae lovely, That ill they’ll ne’er let near thee. Return again, fair Lesley, Return to Caledonie! That we may brag we hae a lass There’s nane again sae bonnie! scaith] harm. tent] watch. steer] molest. _501._ _Highland Mary_ Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o’ Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last fareweel O’ my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom’d the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn’s blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp’d her to my bosom! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o’er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary.