SAFT IS THE BLINK O' THINE E'E, LASSIE.
Oh, saft is the blink o' thine e'e, lassie,
Saft is the blink o' thine e'e;
An' a bonnie wee sun glimmers in its blue orb,
As kindly it glints upon me.
The ringlets that twine round thy brow, lassie,
Are gowden, as gowden may be;
Like the wee curly cluds that play round the sun,
When he 's just going to drap in the sea.
Thou hast a bonnie wee mou', lassie,
As sweet as a body may pree;
And fondly I 'll pree that wee hinny mou',
E'en though thou shouldst frown upon me.
Thou hast a lily-white hand, lassie,
As fair as a body may see;
An' saft is the touch o' that wee genty hand,
At e'en when thou partest wi' me.
Thy thoughts are sae haly and pure, lassie,
Thy heart is sae kind and sae free;
My bosom is flooded wi' sunshine an' joy,
Wi' ilka blithe blink o' thine e'e.
THE MAIR THAT YE WORK, AYE THE MAIR WILL YE WIN.
Be eident, be eident, fleet time rushes on,
Be eident, be eident, bricht day will be gone;
To stand idle by is a profitless sin:
The mair that ye work, aye the mair will ye win.