Song Xxviii. Donald Poem by Robert Anderson

I toss and tumble a' the night,
Fu' laith to lie my lane, lassie;
Lang or the morn I wish for light,
For sleep I can get nane, lassie:
And aye this wee bit flutt'ring heart
It pants, and a' for thee, lassie;
Love likes to act a tyrant's part,
And winna let me be, lassie.

By Labour wak'd at peep o' day,
I greet alang the grove, lassie;
At eve I seek the birky brae,
Fu' fain to meet my love, lassie;
For aye this wee bit flutt'ring heart, &c.

I mark the wild flow'rs as they bloom,
No half sae fair as thee, lassie;
The mournfu' mavis 'mang the broom,
No half sae sad as me, lassie;
For aye this wee bit flutt'ring heart, &c.

Let Fashion's fools, wi' gowd and land,
In costly splendour shine, lassie;
Tho' I nae acres can command,
An honest heart is mine, lassie:
But aye this wee bit flutt'ring heart, &c.

Then haste to thy ain Donald's arms,
And wi' his winsome bride, lassie,
This life will ha'e a thousand charms,
Unknown to scornfu' Pride, lassie:
Syne ease this wee bit flutt'ring heart,
It pants, and a' for thee, lassie;
Love likes to act a tyrant's part,
And winna let me be, lassie.