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Fast owre fallowed lea she brattled,
Deep she wade through bog and burn,
Sair wi' steep and craig she battled,
Till she reached the hoped sojourn
Proud 'mang scenes of Simple Nature,
Stately, auld, a mansion stood
On a bank, whase sylvan feature,
Smiled out ower the roaring flood.
Simmer here, in varied beauty,
Late her flowery mantle spread,
Whar auld chesnut, ake and yew tree
Mingling, lent their friendly shade.
Blasted now wi' Winter's ravage,
A' their gaudy livery cast,
Wood and glen in wailings savage.
Sung and howled to ilka blast.
Darkness stalked wi' fancy terror,
Mountains moved and castle rocked,
Jean, balf dead wi' toil and horror,
Reached the door and loudly knocked
Wha thus rudely waks the sleeping?
Cried a voice wi' angry grane;
Help! oh help! quo Jeanie, weeping,
Help my infants or they're gane.
Nipt wi' cauld, wi' hunger fainting,
Baith lay speechless on the lea!
Help! quo Jeanie, loud lamenting,
Help my lammies, or they'll die.
