The Book of Scottish Song/Nan of Logie Green
Nan of Logie Green.
[Picken.]
By pleasure long infected,
Kind Heav'en, when least expected,
My devious path directed
To Nan of Logie Green;
Where thousand sweets repose 'em
In quiet's unruffled bosom,
I found my peerless blossom
Adorning Logie Green.
The city belle declaiming,
My fancy may be blaming,
But still I'll pride in naming
Sweet Nan of Logie Green.
Her cheek the vermeil rose is,
Her smile a heav'n discloses,
No lily leaf that blows is
So fair on Logie Green.
Ye town-bred dames, forgive me,
Your arms must ne'er receive me;
Your charms are all, believe me,
Eclips'd on Logie Green.
Forgive my passion tender—
Heav'n so much grace did lend her
As made my heart surrender
To Nan of Logie Green.
No more the town delights me,
For love's sweet ardour smites me,
I'll go where he invites me—
To Nan of Logie Green:
My heart shall ne'er deceive her,
I ne'er in life shall leave her;
In love and peace for ever
We'll live at Logie Green.