The Flowers of Edinburgh

My love was once a bonny lad, He was the flower of all his kin; The absence of his bonny face Has rent my tender heart in twain; I day nor night find no delight, In silent tears I still complain; And exclaim 'gainst those my rival foes, That hae ta'en me from my darling swain.

Despair and anguish fills my breast, Since I have lost my blooming rose; I sigh and moan, while others rest, His absence yields me no repose. To seek my love, I'll range and rove, Thro' ev'ry grove and distant plain; Thus I'll ne'er cease, but spend my days, To hear things from my darling swain.

There's nothing strange in nature's change, Since parents shew such cruelty; They caus'd my love from me to range, And knows not to what destiny. The pretty kids, and tender lambs, May cease to sport upon the plain; But I'll mourn and lament in deep discontent, For the absence of my darling swain.

Kind Neptune let me thee intreat, To send a fair and pleasant gale: Ye dolphins, sweet, upon me wait, And convey me upon your tail: Heavens bless my voyage with success. While crossing of the raging main, And send me safe o'er to that distant shore, To meet my lovely darling swain.

All joy and mirth at our return, Shall then abound from Tweed to Tay; The bells shall ring, and sweet birds sing, To grace and crown our nuptial day. Thus bless'd with charms in my love's arms, My heart once more I will regain: Then I'll range no more to a distant shore, But in love will enjoy my darling swain.