the lover's m salute to his mistress
tune—“deil tak the wars.”
sleep'st thou, or wak'st thou, fairest creature?
rosy morn now lifts his eye,
numbering ilka bud whiature
waters wi' the tears o' joy.
now, to the streaming fountain,
or up the heathy mountain,
the hart, hind, and roe, freely, wildly-wanton stray;
in twining hazel bowers,
its y the li pours,
the verock to the sky
asds, wi' sangs o' joy,
while the sun and thou arise to bless the day.
phoebus gilding the brow of m,
banishes ilk darksome shade,
nature, gddening and ad;
sue my lovely maid.
when frae my chloris parted,
sad, cheerless, brokeed,
the night's gloomy shades, cloudy, dark, o'ercast my sky:
but when she charms my sight,
in pride of beauty's light—
when thro' my very heart
her burning glories dart;
'tis then—'tis then i wake to life and joy!