The Book of Scottish Song/The simmer sun

The simmer sun.

[Robert Gilfillan.—Tune, "The Lea Rig."]

The simmer sun now blinks again,
The laverock seeks the morning sky,
The gowan glitters on the plain,
The daisy on the mountain high;
And blythe my laddie on the hill
Sings wi' a heart, save true love, free;
His sang it seems to please me still,
Although I ken 'tis a' 'bout me!

He speaks o' love, I think o' nane,
He says without me he wad dee;
I bid him woo some ither ane,
But aye he fondly turns to me.
His pipe is sweetest on the hill,
His voice is saftest on the lea;
I canna lo'e the laddie ill
That's aye sae unco fond o' me.

The bee is for the moorland bound,
The mavis sings the braes amang,
And nature, in her happy round,
Is rife wi' music, mirth, an' sang.
Alake! my heart, whaur wilt thou gang?
'Tis no as it has been wi' thee!
To be sae coy is surely wrang,
The laddie's aye sae kind to me.

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