In vernal morn and simmer's noon.
But the lovely lass of Yarrow, &c. &c.
I've sail'd on Katrine's leesome lake,
Hae climb'd the lofty Lomond's brow;
Fair nymphs hae seen o' heav'nly make—
So sweet a form yet ne'er till now,
Like the lovely lass of Yarrow, &c. &c.
This song was well received. The goblet having opened their hearts, prevented them from being too fastidious in their criticism. A song was now loudly called for from the Nithsdale clan, when auld Davie Maxwell, with much feeling sung the following:
i winna tell, her heart 'twad break.
I winna tell my Jeanie dear