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Thus widly remov’d from the fair,
where my vows, my devotion I owe,
Soft hope is the relique I bear,
and my ſolace wherever I go.
JOHNNY and MOLLY.
DOWN the burn and thro' the mead,
his golden locks wav’d o’er his brow,
Johnny lilting, tun’d his reed,
and Mary wip’d her bonny mou'.
Dear ſhe lo’ed the well known ſong,
while her Johnny, blythe and young,
ſung her praiſe the whole day long,
Chor. Down the burn and thro' the mead,
his golden locks wav’d o’er his brow,
Johnny, lilting, tun’d his reed,
and Mary wip’d her bonny mou'.
⟨Coſtly⟩ claithes ſhe had but few;
of rings and jewels nae great ſtore,
Her face was fair, her love was true,
and Johnny wiſely wiſh’d nae mair:
Love’s the pearl the ſhepherd’s prize,
o’er the mountain, near the fountain,
⟨Love⟩ delights the ſhepherd’s eyes.
Down the burn, &c;
⟨Gold⟩ and titles give not health,
and Johnny cou’d not theſe impart;
Youthfu’ Mary’s greateſt wealth
was ſtill her faithfu’ Johnny’s heart;
