Fu’ loud and shrill the frosty wind,
Blaws through the leafless timmer, Sir;
But, if ye come this gate again,
I’ll aulder be gin simmer, Sir.
I’m o’er young to marry yet;
I’m o’er young to marry yet;
I’m o’er young, ’twad be a sin
To tak me frae my mammy yet.
XXXVI.
BONNIE LASSIE, WILL YE GO.
Tune—“The birks of Aberfeldy.”
[An old strain, called “The Birks of Abergeldie,” was the forerunner of this sweet song: it was written, the poet says, standing under the Falls of Aberfeldy, near Moness, in Perthshire, during one of the tours which he made to the north, in the year 1787.]
CHORUS.
Bonnie lassie, will ye go,
Will ye go, will ye go;
Bonnie lassie, will ye go
To the birks of Aberfeldy?
I.
Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o’er the crystal streamlet plays;
Come let us spend the lightsome days
In the birks of Aberfeldy.