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8
He tun’d his pipe and reed sae sweet,
the birds stood listning by;
The fleecy ilock stood still and gaz'd,
charm‘d wi his melody,
O the broom, &c.
While thus we spent our time, by turns,
Betwixt our flocks and play,
I envy'd not the fairest dame,
though e'er so rich and gay,
O the broom, &c.
He did oblige me every hour,
could I but faithful be:
He stole my heart could I refuse,
whate'er he asked of me.
Hard fate that I must banish d be,
gang heavily and mourn,
Because I lov'd the kindest (illegible text)swain
that ever yet was born.
O the broom, &c.
FINIS.