Air - " Hills o' Glenorchy." When I think on the sweet smiles o' my lassie, My cares flee awa' like a thief frae the day ; My heart loups licht, an' I join in a sang Amang the sweet birds on the braes o' Bedlay. How sweet the embrace, yet how honest the wishes, When love fa's a-wooin', an' modesty blushes ! Whaur Mary an' I meet amang the green bushes, That screen us sae weel on the braes o' Bedlay. There's nane sae trig or sae fair as my lassie, An mony a wooer she answers wi' " Nay," Wha faun wad ha'e her to lea' me alane, An' meet me nae mair on the braes o' Bedlay. I fearna', I carena', their braggin' o' siller, Nor a' the fine things they can think on tae tell her ; Nae vauntin' can buy her nae threatnin' can sell her ; It's love leads her oot tae the braes o' Bedlay. We'll gang by the links o' the wild rowin' burnie, Whaur aft in my mornin' o' life I did stray ; Whaur love was invited, an' cares were beguiled, By Mary an' me on the braes o' Bedlay. Sae lovin', sae movin', I'll tell her my story, Unmix't wi' the deeds o' ambition for glory ; Whaur wide-spreadin' hawthorns, sae ancient and hoary, Enrich the sweet breeze on the braes o' Bedlay.
The Village of Chryston - North Lanarkshire - Scotland
Walter Watson
The Chryston Poet