'Tis not beneath the coronet, Nor canopy of state, 'Tis not on couch of velvet, Nor arbour of the great-- 'Tis beneath the spreadin' birk, In the glen without the name, Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie, When the kye comes hame. When the kye comes hame, &c.
There the blackbird bigs his nest For the mate he lo'es to see, And on the topmost bough, O, a happy bird is he; Where he pours his melting ditty, And love is a' the theme, And he 'll woo his bonny lassie When the kye comes hame. When the kye comes hame, &c.
When the blewart bears a pearl, And the daisy turns a pea, And the bonny lucken gowan Has fauldit up her e'e, Then the laverock frae the blue lift Doops down, an' thinks nae shame To woo his bonny lassie When the kye comes hame. When the kye comes hame, &c.
See yonder pawkie shepherd, That lingers on the hill, His ewes are in the fauld, An' his lambs are lying still; Yet he downa gang to bed, For his heart is in a flame, To meet his bonny lassie When the kye comes hame. When the kye comes hame, &c.
When the little wee bit heart Rises high in the breast, An' the little wee bit starn Rises red in the east, O there 's a joy sae dear That the heart can hardly frame, Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie, When the kye comes hame! When the kye comes hame, &c.
Then since all Nature joins In this love without alloy, O, wha would prove a traitor To Nature's dearest joy? Or wha would choose a crown, Wi' its perils and its fame, And miss his bonny lassie When the kye comes hame? When the kye comes hame, When the kye comes home, 'Tween the gloamin' an' the mirk, When the kye comes hame!
[54] In the title and chorus of this favourite pastoral song, I choose rather to violate a rule in grammar, than a Scottish phrase so common, that when it is altered into the proper way, every shepherd and shepherd's sweetheart account it nonsense. I was once singing it at a wedding with great glee the latter way, "When the kye come hame," when a tailor, scratching his head, said, "It was a terrible affectit way that!" I stood corrected, and have never sung it so again.--_Hogg._
O sarely may I rue the day I fancied first the womenkind; For aye sinsyne I ne'er can hae Ae quiet thought or peace o' mind! They hae plagued my heart, an' pleased my e'e, An' teased an' flatter'd me at will, But aye, for a' their witchery, The pawky things I lo'e them still. O, the women folk! O, the women folk! But they hae been the wreck o' me; O, weary fa' the women folk, For they winna let a body be!