THE CHARMS of MELODY, SONG 48

When trees did bud, and fields were green, And broom bloom'd fair to see— When Mary was complete fifteen, And love laugh'd in her eye—

Blithe Davy's blinks her heart did move To speak her mind thus free: Gang down the burn, Davy, love, And I will follow thee.

Now Davy did each lad surpass, That dwelt on the burn side, And Mary was the bonniest lass, Just meet to be a bride:

Till baith at length impatient grown, To be mair fully blest, In yonder vale they lean'd them down, Love only saw the rest.

What pass'd, I guess, was harmless play, And naething sure unmeet: For ganging hame I heard them say, They lik'd a wa'k sae sweet;

And that they aften shou'd return Sic pleasure to renew. Quoth Mary, love, I like the burn, And aye shall follow you.

As fate had dealt to him a routh, Strait to the kirk he led her, There plighted her his faith and truth, And a bonny bride he made her;

No more asham'd to own her love, Or speak her mind thus free: Cang down the burn, Davy, love, And I will follow thee.