| |
| HEAR me, ye nymphs, and every swain, | |
| I ’ll tell how Peggy grieves me; | |
| Though thus I languish, thus complain, | |
| Alas! she ne’er believes me. | |
| My vows and sighs, like silent air, | 5 |
| Unheeded never move her; | |
| At the bonny bush aboon Traquair, | |
| ’T was there I first did love her. | |
| |
| That day she smiled and made me glad, | |
| No maid seemed ever kinder; | 10 |
| I thought myself the luckiest lad, | |
| So sweetly there to find her. | |
| I tried to soothe my amorous flame | |
| In words that I thought tender; | |
| If more there passed, I ’m not to blame, | 15 |
| I meant not to offend her. | |
| |
| Yet now she scornful flees the plain, | |
| The fields we then frequented; | |
| If ere we meet, she shows disdain, | |
| She looks as ne’er acquainted. | 20 |
| The bonny bush bloomed fair in May, | |
| Its sweets I ’ll aye remember; | |
| But now her frowns make it decay, | |
| It fades as in December. | |
| |
| Ye rural powers, who hear my strains, | 25 |
| Why thus should Peggy grieve me? | |
| O, make her partner in my pains, | |
| Then let her smiles relieve me! | |
| If not, my love will turn despair, | |
| My passion no more tender, | 30 |
| I ’ll leave the bush aboon Traquair, | |
| To lonely wilds I ’ll wander. | |
| |
