Favourite Scotch Song
Low in a vale young Willy ſat,
Beneath a craggy hill ;
And there pour'd forth his ſad complaint
To trees and murm'ring rill.
Ah ! once I was a happy ſwain,
I cheerly fed my flocks all day,
And Jenny ſmil'd on me.
Her face is like the blooming may,
Her well form'd neck is fair ;
Her e'en like ſparkling diamonds ſhone,
And golden gliſts her hair.
But why do I admire her charms,
She pays my tears with ſcorn ;
She breaks her vows, ſhe mocks my grief,
And leaves me here to mourn.
Then why do I her ſlights endure,
I'll to you river's ſide ;
I won't delay, but yield my breath,
Unto the cryſta tide.
Now Jenny, hid behind a buſh,
Heard the ſwain's doleful will ;
She wept and ſaid, you ſhall not go,
For now I love you ſtill,
When Will turn'd he with ſurprize.
Boheld his Jenny dear ;
Swee maid, he ſaid, your pity ſaves,
Altho' death was ſo near.
She ſaid, no more m cruelty.
Shall yield you to deſpair ?
He ſaid ne'er more I'll part with thee,
Jenny my charming air.