Sounds o' birds as they do zing,
An' bring the smell o' bloomèn maÿ,
An' bring the smell o' new-mow'd haÿ;
Come fan my feäce as I do straÿ,
Fan the heäir
O' Jessie feäir; fan her cool,
By the weäves o' stream or pool.
THE NEÄME LETTERS.
When high-flown larks wer on the wing,