Tune—"The Quaker's Wife."

Blythe hae I been on yon hill,

As the lambs before me;

Careless ilka thought and free,

As the breeze flew o'er me;

Now nae langer sport and play,

Mirth or sang can please me;

Lesley is sae fair and coy,

Care and anguish seize me.

Heavy, heavy is the task,

Hopeless love declaring;

Trembling, I dow nocht but glow'r,

Sighing, dumb despairing!

If she winna ease the thraws

In my bosom swelling,

Underneath the grass-green sod,

Soon maun be my dwelling.