8
BRAW LADS ON YARROW BRAES.
But there is ane, a secret ane,
Aboon them a' I loe him better:
And I'll be his, and he'll be mine,
The bonny lad o' Galla water.
Although his daddy was nae laird,
And though I hae nae muckle tocher,
Yet rich in kindest, truest love,
We'll tent our flocks by Galla water.
It ne'er was gold, it ne'er was wealth,
That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure;
The bands and bliss o' mutual love,
O! that's the choicest warld's treasure.