Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/601

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page needs to be proofread.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
  So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
  Till a' the seas gang dry:

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
  And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
  While the sands o' life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Luve,
  And fare thee weel a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
  Tho' it were ten thousand mile.


504. Lament for Culloden

The lovely lass o' Inverness,
  Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
For e'en and morn she cries, 'Alas!'
  And aye the saut tear 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 growing green to see;
And by them lies the dearest lad
  That ever blest a woman's e'e!
Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord,
  A bluidy man I trow thou be;
For monie a heart thou hast made sair,
  That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee.'