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97

I Love My Jean.

Of a' the airths the wind can blaw,
I dearly lo'e the west,
For there the bonnie lassie lives,
The lassie I lo'e best:
There wild-woods grow, and rivers flow,
And mony a hill between;
But day and night my fancy's flight
Is ever wi' my Jean.

I see her in the dewy flowers,
I see her sweet and fair,
I hear her in the tunefu' birds,
I hear her charm the air.
There's not a bonnie flower that springs,
By fountain, shaw, or green,
There's not a bonnie bird that sings,
But minds me o' my Jean.

O blaw, ye westlin winds, blaw soft
Amang the leafy trees;

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Wi' gentle breath frae muir an' dale,
Bring hame the laden bees:
And bring the lassie back to me,
That's aye sae neat and clean:
Aye blink o' her would banish care,
Sae charming is my Jean.

I see her in the glassy stream,
That winds along the vale,
I hear her in sweet echo's voice
That dies along the gale:
I'll love her while a vital spark
Shall shed its latest gleam,
Gay nature's charms would soon depart
If 'twere na for my Jean.

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