Air "Ha'e ye seen in the calm dewy mornin' ?" Ha'e ye been in the north, bonnie lassie, Whaur Glaizert rins pure frae the fell, Whaur the straight stately beech staun's sae gaucy, An' love lilts his tale through the dell? O' then ye maun ken o' my Jessie, Sae blithesome, sae bonny an' braw, The lassies ha'e doots about Jessie, Her charms steal their lovers awa'. I can see ye're fu' han'some an' winnin', Your cleedin's fu' costly an' clean. Your wooers are aften complainin' O' wounds frae yet bonnie blue een. I could lean me wi' pleasure beside thee, Ae kiss o' thy mou' is a feast ; May love wi' his blessin's abide thee, For Jessie's the queen o' my breast. I maun gang an' get hame my sweet Jessie, For fear some young laird o' degree May come roun' on his fine sleekit bawsy An' ding a' my prospects agee. There's naething like gowd tae the miser, There's naething like light to the e'e, But they canna gi'e me ony pleasure, If Jessie proves faithless tae me. Let us meet on the border, my Jessie, Whaur Kelvin links bonnily bye, Tho' my words may be scant to address ye, My heart will be loupin' wi' joy. If ance I were weddet tae Jessie, An' that may be ere it be lang, I'll can brag o' the bonniest lassie That e'er was the theme o' a sang.
The Village of Chryston - North Lanarkshire - Scotland
Walter Watson
The Chryston Poet