Dear is my little native vale/The crook and plaid
THE CROOK AND PLAID.
If the lassies like the ladies
And they like me confess,
For every lass she had a lad
She likes abun the rest.
That's dear unto her bosom,
What ever be his trade;
There's nae wooing like the ladie,
That wears the Crook and Plaid.
At morn he climbs the mountain,
His flishy flock to view;
And hear the Lavrocks warble,
Now springs frae mang the daw.
With his chearfull little doggie,
Sae frolicsome and glad,
Wanders forward with the ladie,
That wears the Crook and Plaid.
At even he laid him down,
All in yon healthy glen,
And views his flock around him,
All feeding in the plain.
There he tum'd, his Pipe sac sweetly,
Which cheard the heart that's sad,
For his only wish is to be bliss'd
Wi Jean and tartan Plaid.
Beneath the bonny hawthorn,
That blooms in the glen.
I'll meet him in the gloman,
Far far frae trants and men,
Ill meet him in the gloman
Our hearts will then be glad,
For he kens the way sae nicely,
To row me in his Plaid.
A lad wi' muckle siller,
May to his lover ride,
And praise her charms wi' artfull wiles,
To win her to be his Bride.
But commend me to the hawthorn,
Where cheek to cheek is laid,
While the praises O' his heart to be,
Beneath his Tarten Plaid.
O who can o'ev deny,
For love gives purer pleasure,
Then all beneath the sky,
When love is in the bosom
That heart can ne'er be sad,
Than I'll wander wi' the ladie,
That wears the Crook and Plaid.
He pu'd the bonny heather Bells,
He pu'd the lily meek;
Call the lily like my bosom,
The heather like my cheek,
And he promised wi' a faithfull vow,
To make me his Bride.
Then through life I'll love the ladie.
That wears the Crook and Plaid.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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