My Nanie O (n.d., Stirling)/Bonny Jean

For other versions of this work, see There was a Lass.

BONNY JEAN.

There was a lass and she was fair,
at kirk and market to be seen,
When a' the fairest maids were met,
The fairest maid was bonny Jean.

And ay she wrought her mither's wark,
and ay 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 nagies nine or ten.

He gaed wi' Jeanie to the tryst,
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 o' the stream,
the moon beam dwells at dewy e'en:
So trembling, pure, was tender love,
within the breast o' bonny Jean.

And now she works her mither's wark,
and ay she sighs wi' care and pain;
Yet wist na what her all might be,
or what wad mak her weel again.

But did na Jeanie's heart loup light,
and didna joy blink in her e'e,
As Robie tauld a tale o' love,
at e'enin on the lily lea?

The sun was sinking in the west,
the birds sang sweet in ilka grove;
His cheek to her's he fondly prest,
and whisper'd thus his tale o' love;

O Jeanie fair I loe thee dear;
O canst thou think to fancy me?

Or wilt thou leave thy mither's cot,
and learn to tent the farms wi' me?

At barn or byre thou shalt na drudge,
or naething else to trouble thee;
But stray amang the heather bells,
and tent the waving corn wi' me.

Now what could artless Jeanie do?
she had na will say him na:
At length she blush'd a sweet consent.
and love was ay between them twa.