Five Songs ("Jockey to the Fair")/Country Lassie

In simmer when the hay was mawn,
An’ corn wav’d green in ilka field,
While clover blooms white o’er the lea,
An roses blaw in ilka bield;
Blythe Bessy in the milking shiel,
Says I’ll be wed come o’t what will;
Out spak a dame in wrinkled eild,
O’ gude advisement comes nae ill.

It’s ye ha’e wooers mony ane,
An’ lassie ye’re but young, ye ken;
Then wait a wee, and cannie wale
A routine butt, a routine ben;
There’s Johny o’ the Buskie-glen,
Fu’ is his barn, fu’ is his byre;
Tak this frae me, my bonny hen,
It’s plenty beets the lover’s fire.

For Johnie o’ the Buskie-glen,
I dinna care a single flee;
He lo’es sae weel his craps and kye,
He has nae love to spare for nae:
But blythe’s the blink o’ Robie’s e’e,
An weel-a-wat he lo’es me dear;
Ae blink o’ him I wad na gie
For Buskie-glen an’ a’ his gear.

A thoughtless lassie, life’s a faught;
The canniest gate, the strife is sair;
But ay fu’ han’t is fechtin best,
A hungry care’s an unco care;
But some will spend, and some will spare,
An’ wilfu’ folk maun ha’e their will;
Ane as ye brew, my maiden fair,
Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill.

O gear will buy me rigs o’ land,
An’ gear will buy me sheep and kye;
But the tender heart o’ leesome love,
The gowd an’ siller canna buy!
We may be poor—Robie an’ I.
Light is the burden love lays on;
Content and love brings peace and joy,
What mair ha’e queens upon a throne?