The Linnet (1819, Falkirk)/The Lass of Arranteinie

For other versions of this work, see The Lass of Arranteenie.
​

The Lass o' Arranteinie.

Forlorn amang the Highland hills,
'midst Natures wildest grandeur,
By rocky dens an' woody glens,
with weary steps I wander;
The langsome way, the darksome day;
the mountain mist so rainy
Are nought to me, when eaun to thee,
sweet Lass O' Arranteinie.

Yon mossy rose-bud. down the nowe,
just opening fresh and bonny
Blinks sweerty 'neath the hazle-bough,
and scarcely seen by ony:
Sae sweet amidst her native hills,
obscurely blooms my Jenny,
Mair fair an gay than rosy May,
the flower of Arranteinie.

​
Now from the mountain's lofty brow,
 I view the distant ⟨ocean⟩
There avarice guides the bounding prow,
ambition courts promotion:
Let fortune pour her golden store,
her laurel favors many:
Give me but this, my soul's first wish,
The Lass of Arranteinie.

———x———

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.