Tune—"The Tither Morn."

Yon wandering rill that marks the hill,

And glances o'er the brae, Sir,

Slides by a bower, where mony a flower

Sheds fragrance on the day, Sir;

There Damon lay, with Sylvia gay,

To love they thought no crime, Sir,

The wild birds sang, the echoes rang,

While Damon's heart beat time, Sir.