A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull, Fair-linèd slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold.
A belt of straw and ivy-buds With coral clasps and amber studs, An’ if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my love.
Thy silver dishes for thy meat As precious as the gods do eat, Shall on an ivory table be Prepar’d each day for thee and me.
The shepherd-swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May-morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me, and be my love.
[ THE FLOWERS O’ THE FOREST]
I’ve heard them lilting, at the ewe-milking, Lasses a’ lilting, before dawn o’ day; But now they are moaning, on ilka green loaning; The Flowers o’ the Forest are a’ wede awae.
At bughts, in the morning, nae blythe lads are scorning; Lasses are lonely, and dowie, and wae; Nae daffing, nae gabbing, but sighing and sabbing; Ilk ane lifts her leglin, and hies her awae.