Page:A New Zealand verse (1906).pdf/195

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My Ain Dearie.
159
Where ferns are darkling, where rills are sparkling,
    The morning breathes joy.
Waving and looping, the wild flowers are drooping
    And coy.
While echo repeats all the voices of morn,
On quiet winds borne.

Come! for the glory lies varied before thee:
    The blue of the sky
No beauty can render like that which makes tender
    Thine eye:
While spendthrifts in spirit and misers in joy,
Our hours we employ.

H. L. Twisleton

XCV.

My Ain Dearie.

It’s ower yonder hill, and it’s through yonder glen,
Whaur the burn rins doun sae clearly,
When the moon shines sae bricht, and the stars gie their licht,
I’ll gang then and see my ain dearie.

For she’s leal and true, and she’s fair to the view,
Though she be nae a high-born leddy;
She’s fair in every part, and she’s leddy o’ my heart,
And to mak’ her my bride I am ready.

As the rosebud that blaws, and the sna’ drift that fa’s,
Is the hue o’ her cheek that’s sae bonnie;
While the lustre o’er her een marks her out for beauty’s queen,
And the ploughboy she lo’es best o’ ony.