The Book of Scottish Song/O come with me

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O come with me.

[John Finlay.—Here first printed. Tune, "Roslin Castle."]

O come with me, for the queen of night
Is thron'd on high in her beauty bright:
'Tis now the silent hour of even,
When all is still in earth an' heaven;
The cold flowers which the valleys strew
Are sparkling bright wi' pearly dew,
And hush'd is e'en the bee's saft hum,
Then come with me, sweet Mary, come.

The opening blue bell—Scotland's pride
In heaven's pure azure deeply dyed;
The daisy meek frae the dewy dale,
The wild thyme, and the primnse pale,
Wi' the lily frae the glassy lake,
Of these a fragrant wreath I'll make,
And bind them mid' the locks that flow
In rich luxuriance from thy brow.

O! love, without thee what were life,
A bustling scene of care and strife;
A waste, where no green flowery glade
Is found, for shelter or for shade.
But cheer'd by thee, the griefs we share,
We can with calm composure bear;
For the darkest nicht o'care and toil
Is bricht when blest by woman's smile.