4
Soft her smile raise like May morning.
Glinting owre Denmait’s * brow;
Sweet! wi’ opening charms adorning
Stirling’s lovely plains below.
Kind and gentle was her nature;
At ilk place she bore the bell;
Sic a bloom, and shape, and stature—
But her look nae tongue can tell!
Such was Jean when Will first, mawing.
Spied her on a thrawart beast;
Flew like fire, and just when fa’ing,
Kepp’d her on his manly breast.
Light he bore her, pale as ashes,
’Cross the meadow, fragrant, green;
Placed her on the new-mawn rashes,
Watching sad her opening een.
Such was Will, when poor Jean, fainting,
Drapped into a lover’s arms;
Wakened to his soft lamenting,
Sighed, and blushed a thousand charms.
Soon they lo’ed, and soon were buckled;
Nane took time to think and rue:
Youth and worth and beauty coupled—
Love had never less to do.
Three short years flew by fu’ canty,+
Jean and Will thought them but ane;
Ilka day brought joy and plenty,
Ilka year a dainty wean.
Will wrought sair, but aye wi’ pleasure,
Jean, the hale day, spun and sang—
Will and weans, her constant treasure,
Blest wi’ them, nae day seemed lang.
- One of the Ochil Hills, near Stirling. + Happily.
