Clutha, wi' truest love I love thee, Jean/Clutha

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C L U T H A.

Tune—’Miss Admiral Gordon’s Strathspey.

O Clutha! wild thy banks appear,
⁠And saft thy waters glide,
And lasses, kind, and blythe, and fair
⁠Adorn thy wooded side.
They ken na me, they lo’e na me,
⁠Tho‘ a‘ sae sweet and gay;
Fu’ blythe they be, and kythe they be.
⁠But I am doylt and wae.

How touching saft the gloamin’s gleam.
⁠On tufted knowe and fell,
When o’er the brae the sunnie beam
⁠Sae mildly glints farewell.
When dusky vapours slowly row,
⁠Alang the waveless tide,
gathrin’ cluds o' leaden hue,
⁠Hang on the mountain's side.

Tho' placid be the closin’ scene
⁠A gloamin’s silent hour.
Around my breast nae rays serene
⁠The joys o' e'enin pour;
As things are gay, but l am wae.
⁠They smile, but I repine;

Iik (illegible text) near his lassie dear—
⁠But am far frae mine.

Thou awful spirit o' the floods,
⁠That scoop'd wide Clutha’s vale,
That flower'd her fields, and rear’d her woods,
⁠And bade her spread the sail!
O gie her sons and daughters peace,
⁠And freedom, health, and joy:
And ne'er (illegible text) blight present bliss.
⁠Nor soothing hope destroy.

For me, I’ll wander where I list,
⁠Dark as the wintry stormy
Nae friend shall sooth my bleeding breast,
⁠Nae love my sorrow charm.—
I hae a love, but that sweet love
⁠Wears cauldness in her ee;
I hae a love,but that sweet love
⁠Will never love like me.