And syne he sang a clear;
And aye the o'erword o' the sang
Was—"Your love can no win here."
"Feast on, feast on, my maidens a':
"The wine flows you amang:
"While I gang to my shot-window,
"And hear yon bonny bird's sang.
"Sing on, sing on, my bonny bird,
"The sang ye sung yestreen;
"For weel I ken, by your sweet singing,