A Scotch Song Poem by Christian Milne

THY lovely laughing twa black een,
Sae sweet a face adorning,
Hae stown my heart, my bonny JEAN !
I sigh frae night to morning.
Thy auburn locks, that gaily play
Aroun' thy neck an' bosom;
Thy lip an' cheek, that do display
The rose an' peach's blossom--
Hae rais'd saft wishes in my breast,
Ilk' ruder thought disarming;
Smile! bonny JEAN ! an' mak' me blest--
Be kind as thou art charming.
Yon cot is mine aneath the brae,
Whar bright the sun is shining;
An' yon sweet glen, what woodbines gay
Aroun' tall trees are twining;
Yon little flock upo' the hill,
What bees for sweets are straying;
Yon snaw-white lambs that by the rill
Aroun' their dams are playing;
Yon lowing heifers too are mine--
Yet a' can yield nae pleasure,
Till they an' I, sweet JEAN ! are thine,
Thou dearest, richest treasure!