THE HEATH THIS NIGHT MUST BE MY BED
'Twas for her, the Maid of Islay,
Time flew o'er me wing'd with joy;
'Twas for her the cheering smile aye
Beam'd with rapture in my eye.
Not the tempest raving round me,
Lightning's flash or thunder's roll,
Not the ocean's rage could wound me,
While her image filled my soul.
Farewell, days of purest pleasure,
Long your loss my heart shall mourn!
Farewell, hours of bliss the measure,
Bliss that never can return.
Cheerless o'er the wild heath wandering,
Cheerless o'er the wave-worn shore,
On the past with sadness pondering,
Hope's fair visions charm no more.
THE HEATH THIS NIGHT MUST BE MY BED
THE heath this night must be my bed,
The bracken curtain for my head,
My lullaby the warder's tread,
Far, far from love and thee, Mary!
THE HEATH THIS NIGHT MUST BE MY BED
To-morrow eve, more stilly laid,
My couch may be my bloody plaid,
My vesper song thy wail, sweet maid!
It will not waken me, Mary!
I may not, dare not, fancy now
The grief that clouds thy lovely brow,
I dare not think upon thy vow,
And all it promised me, Mary.
No fond regrets must Norman know;
When bursts Clan-Alpine on the foe,
His heart must be like bended bow,
His foot like arrow free, Mary.
A time will come with feeling fraught,
For if I fall in battle fought,
Thy hapless lover's dying thought
Shall be a thought on thee, Mary.
And if return'd from conquer'd foes,
How blythely will the evening close,
How sweet the linnet sing repose
To my young bride and me, Mary!
"WHEN ye gang awa', Jamie,
When ye gang awa', laddie,
What will ye gi'e my heart to cheer,
When ye are far awa', Jamie?"
"I'll gi'e ye a braw new gown, Jeanie, I'll gi'e ye a braw new gown, lassie, An' it will be a silken ane,
Wi' Valenciennes trimm'd round, Jeanie."
"O, that's nae luve at a', laddie,
That's nae luve, at a', Jamie,
How could I bear braw gowns to wear,
When ye are far awa', laddie?
"But mind me when awa', Jamie,
Mind me when awa, laddie,
For out o' sicht is out o' mind
Wi' mony folk we ken, Jamie."
"Oh, that can never be, Jeanie,
Forgot ye ne'er can be, lassie;
Oh, gang wi' me to the north countrie,
My bonnie bride to be, Jeanie.
"The Hills are grand and hie, Jeanie, The burnies runnin' clear, lassie,
'Mang birks and braes, where wild deer
Oh, come wi' me, and see, lassie."
"I winna gang wi' thee, laddie,
I tell'd ye sae afore, Jamie;
Till free consent my parents gi'e.
I canna gang wi' thee, Jamie."
"But when ye're wed to me, Jeanie,
Then they will forgi'e, lassie;
How can ye be sae cauld to me,
Wha's lo'ed ye weel and lang, lassie."
"No sae lang as them, laddie,
No sae lang as them, Jamie;
A grief to them I wadna be,
No for the Duke himsel', Jamie.
"We'll save our penny free, laddie,
To keep frae poortith free, Jamie;
An' then their blessing they will gi'e
Baith to you and me, Jamie."
"Huntingtower is mine, lassie,
Huntingtower is mine, Jeanie;
Huntingtower an' Blairnagower,
An' a' that's mine is thine, Jeanie!"
THE rosebud blushing to the morn,
The snaw-white flower that scents the thorn,
When on thy gentle bosom worn,
Were ne'er sae fair as thee, Mary!
How blest was I, a little while,
To deem that bosom free frae guile;
When, fondly sighing, thou wouldst smile;
Yes, sweetly smile on me, Mary!
Though gear was scant, an' friends were few,
My heart was leal, my love was true;
I blest your e'en of heavenly blue,
That glanced sae saft on me, Mary! But wealth has won your heart frae me; Yet I maun ever think of thee;
May a' the bliss that gowd can gi’e,
For ever wait on thee, Mary!
For me, nae mair on earth I crave,
But that yon dripping willow wave
Its branches o'er my early grave,
Forgot by love, an' thee, Mary!
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