Here is the glen, and here the bower All underneath the birchen shade; The village-bell has told the hour, O what can stay my lovely maid? 'Tis not Maria's whispering call; 'Tis butthe balmy breathing gale, Mixt with some warbler's dying fall, The dewy star of eve to hail. It is Maria's voice I hear;

Hee balou, my sweet weeDonald, Picture o' the great Clanronald; Brawliekens our wanton Chief Whagatmy young Highland thief. Leeze me onthy boniecraigie, An'thou live, thou'll steal a naigie, Travel the country thro' and thro', And bring hame a Carlisle cow. Thro' the Lawlands, o'er the Border, Weel, my babie, may thou furder! Herrythe louns o'the

Oh I am come to the low Countrie, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! Without a penny in my purse, To buy a meal to me. It was nasae in the Highland hills, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! Nae woman in the Country wide, Sae happy was as me. For then I had a score o'kye, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! Feeding

The lovely lass o'Inverness, Naejoy nor pleasure can she see; For, e'ento morn she cries, alas! And aye the sauttear blin's her e'e. "Drumossie moor, Drumossie day- A waefu' day it was to me! For there I lost my father dear, My father dear, and brethren three. "Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are

As, Chloris, since it may not be, That thou of love wilt hear; If from the lover thou maunflee, Yet let the friend be dear. Altho' I love my Chloris mair Than ever tongue could tell; My passion I will ne'er declare- I'll say, I wish thee well. Tho' a' my daily care thou art,