Gemm’d with fairy blossoms waving as I pass,
For the breeze was flitting o’er the grassy lea,
Whispering many a story to the flowers and me;
For the breeze was flitting o’er the grassy lea,
Whispering many a story to the flowers and me.
Bonnie Jamie.
The twilight hour is stealing,
The day is dying fast,
Neath the birken tree I’m kneeling,