Home, Sweet Home (1829)/Auld Bob Morris

AULD BOB MORRIS.

There’s auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen,
He’s the king o’ good fellows and wale o' auld men;
He has goud in his coffers, he has owsen and kine
And ae bonny lassie, his darling and mine.

She’s fresh as the morning, the fairest in May ;
She’s sweet as the ev'ning amaug the new hay,
As blythe and as artless as lambs on the lea,
And dear to my heart as the light tu my ee,

Hut oh, she's an heiress, auld Rabie's a laird,
My daddie has nought but a cot-house and yard ;
A wooer like me manna hope to come speed,
The wounds I maun hide that will soon be ray dead.

The day comes to me, but delight I have nane,
The night comes to me, but ray rest it is gane,
I wander my lane like a night troubled ghaist,
And I sigh as my heart is wad burst in my breast.

O had she but been of lower degree,
I then might bae hope she wad smile upon me!
O how past describing wad then be my bless,
As now my distraction no words can express.