Bonny lass of Calder Braes (1)/The Bonny lass of Calder Braes

THE

BONNY LASS OF CALDER BRAES.

[Tune—Logan Water]

When cares were few and life was young,
On Calder-braes I danc'd and sung,
Unpain’d by keen remorse’s dart,
Lay flow'd spontaneous from my heart;
To crown the happy mundane scene,
I lov'd—nor did I love in vain;
The theme of all my artless days
Was my dear lass of Calder-braes.

Thrice happy days, your loss I mourn.
You’re gone—ah! never to return;
Ambition's ignis fatu's glare
Transform'd my bliss to black despair!
The pomp of war, and pride of arms,
Appear’d with such resistless charms,
I left to face my country’s faes;
My weeping maid on Calder-braes.

In martial conflict first I shone.
In climes below the burning zone;
Beneath Seringapa'am's wall
I saw the tyrant Sultan's fall;
Amidst the carnage of the day.
Where dead and dying round me lay.
'Midst cannons’ roar, and lightning's blaze,
I thought on peaceful Calder-braes.

With laurels crown’d, with wealth array'd.
Again I sought my native shade,
In hopes my long lost love to meet,
To lay my laurels at her feet;
Alas! I never saw her more!
My sanguine dreams of bliss are o'er:
My only pleasure’s now to gaze
On her lov'd grave on Calder-braes: