Bonny lass of Calder Braes (1806)/The pleasures of the Primrose Bank

THE PRIMROSE BANK

ON a primrose bank, by a murmuring stream,
Pastora was singing and I was her theme;
Whilst charm’d with her beauty, behind a green bush.
I listen’d to hear her sweet tale with a blush.

Of all the young shepherds that pipe on the reed,
’Tis Damon alone I can fancy indeed;
I tell him I value him not of a thrush,
Yet surely I love him, or why do I blush?

When I went to the grove, at the top of the hill,
It was the last May, I remember it still,
He brought me a nest of young linnets quite flush,
And I the kind present receiv’d with a blush.

Whenever he meets me, he’ll simper and smile,
I seem as I did not observe him the while;
He offer’d to kiss me, I gave him a push;
Why can’t you be easy? I cry’d with a blush.

One Sunday he came to intreat me to walk,
’Twas down in a meadow, of love was our talk.
He call d me his dearest—Pray, Damon, be, hush,
There‘s somebody coming, I cry‘d, with a blush.

My mother she chides when I mention the swain,
Forbids me to go to the meadow again:
But sure, for his sake, I will venture a brush.
For love him I do, I confess with a blush.

Thus warbled the fair, and my heart leapt for joy,
Tho’ little she thought that her Damon was nigh.
But chancing to see me behind a green bush,
She ended her song, and arose with a blush.