How lang an' dreary is the night, I do confess thou art sae fair, My wife's a winsome wee thing, Now spring has clad the grove in Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, Oh, bonnie was yon rosy brier, Oh, lay thy loof in mine, lass, INDEX OF FIRST LINES. Adieu! a heart-warm fond adieu! Amang the trees where humming bees, Ance mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December, A rose-bud by my early walk, As I was a-wand'ring ae midsimmer e'enin', Behold the hour, the boat arrive, Blithe ha'e I been on yon hill, But lately seen in gladsome green, But warily tent when ye come to court me, By Allan stream I chanc'd to rove, By Auchtertyre grows the aik, By yon castle wa', at the close of the day, 141 119 |