The Book of Scottish Song/I ance knew content

I ance knew content.

[Thomas Lyle.]

I ance knew content, but its smiles are awa',
⁠The broom blooms bonnie, an' grows sae fair;
Each tried friend forsakes me, sweet Phebe an' a',
⁠So I ne'er will gae down to the broom ony mair.

How light was my step, and my heart, O how gay!
⁠The broom blooms bonnie, the broom blooms fair;
Till Phebe was crown'd our queen of the May,
⁠When the bloom o' the broom strew'd its sweets on the air.

She was mine when the snaw-draps hung white on the lea,
⁠Ere the broom bloom'd bonnie, an' grew sae fair;
Till May-day, anither wysed Phebe frae me.
⁠So I ne'er will gae down to the broom ony mair.

Sing, Love, thy fond promises melt like the snaw,
⁠When broom waves lonely, an' bleak blaws the air;
For Phebe to me now is naething ava,
⁠If my heart could say, "Gang to the broom nae mair."

Durst I trow that thy dreams in the night hover o'er,
⁠Where broom blooms bonnie, and grows sae feir;
The swain (who, while waking, thou thinks of no more,)
⁠Whisp'ring, "Love, will ye gang to the broom ony mair?"

No! Fare thee well, Phebe; I'm owre wae to weep,
⁠Or to think o' the broom growing bonnie an' fair;
Since thy heart is anither's, in death I maun sleep,
⁠'Neath the broom on the lea, an' the bawm sunny air.

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