5
O, WERE I ON PARNASSUS’ HILL.
Tune-" My love is lost to me,
O were I on Parnassus’ hill!
Or had of Helicon my fill;
That I might catch poetic skill,
To sing how dear I love thee.
But Nith maun be my muse’s well,
My muse maun be thy bonnie sell;
On Corsincon I’ll glow’r and spell,
And write how dear I love thee.
Then come, sweet muse, inspire my lay,
For a’ the lea-lang simmer’s day,
I coudna sing, I coudna say,
How much, how dear I love thee.
I see thee dancing o’er the green:
Thy waist sae jimp, thy limbs sae clean,
Thy tempting lips, thy roguish een—
By heaven and earth I love thee!
By night by day, a-field, at hame,
The thoughts o’ thee my breast inflame;
And aye I muse and sing thy name,
I only live to love thee.
Tho’ I were doom’d to wander on,
Beyond the sea, beyond the sun,
’Till my last weary sand was run,
’Till then—and then I love thee.
