The Black-bird/The Lass of Torrance-Glen

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For other versions of this work, see The Lass of Torrance-Glen.
4515496The Black-bird — The Lass of Torrance-GlenAnonymous

THE
LASS OF TORRANCE-GLEN[1]
(TuneBlythe was she, &c.)

Ae sweetly-smiling simmer morn,
When nature bloom’d in a’ her pride,
I wander’d thoughtless thro’ the groves
That deck the braes on Calder-side.

Blythe, blythe, and merry was I,
Blyther than the maist of men;
Now, alas! I’ve lost my heart
Amang the groves of Torrance-glen.

To watch the feather'd warblers' song,
I lean'd me down beneath a thorn,
When soon a bonny lass I spy’d,
Was sweeter than the vernal morn.
   Blythe, blythe, &c.

Her een was like the glomin’ star,
And glitterin’ was her gowden hair;
There’s no a lass round Britain’s Isle
With my sweet Mary can compare.
   Blythe, blythe, &c.

Her skin was white as virgin snaw,
Her cheeks excell’d the roses red;
But O! her mouth’s beyond compare,
Sae muckle sweetness there lies hid.
  Blythe, blythe, &c.

Let bards describe bright Juno’s charms,
Or Venus rising from the sea;
But my delight’s to sing the praise
Of Mary with the sparkling e’e.

Blythe, blythe and merry was I,
Blyther than the maist of men;
Now, alas! I've lost my heart
Amang the groves of Torrance-glen.

———o———

  1. The Glen of Torrance is a beautiful romantic valley, on the banks of Calder, on the Estate of the late Alex Stuart, Esq. of Torrance, Parish of East Kilbride, about eight miles from Glasgow.