Bonie Jean—A Ballad（1 / 2）

  bonie jean—a ballad
  to its ain tune.
  there was a lass, and she was fair,
  at kirk or market to be seen;
  when a' our fairest maids were met,
  the fairest maid was bonie jean.
  and aye she wrought her mammie's wark,
  and aye she sang sae merrilie;
  the blythest bird upon the bush
  had ne'er a lighter heart than she.
  but hawks will rob the tender joys
  that bless the little lintwhite's nest;
  and frost will blight the fairest flowers,
  and love will break the soundest rest.
  young robie was the brawest lad,
  the flower and pride of a' the glen;
  and he had owsen, sheep, and kye,
  and wanton naigies nine or ten.
  he gaed wi' jeanie to the tryste,
  he danc'd wi' jeanie on the down;
  and, lang ere witless jeanie wist,
  her heart was tint, her peace was stown!
  as in the bosom of the stream,
  the moon-beam dwells at dewy e'en;
  so trembling, pure, was tender love
  within the breast of bonie jean.
  and now she works her mammie's wark,
  and aye she sighs wi' care and pain;
  yet wist na what her ail might be,
  or what wad make her weel again. ↑返回顶部↑