Blythe haeI been on yonhill,
As the lambs before me;
Careless ilka thought and free,
As the breeze flew o’er me;
Now naelanger sport and play,
Mirth orsang can please me;
Lesley is saefair and coy,
Care and anguish seize me.
Heavy, heavy is the task,
Hopeless love declaring;
Trembling, I downochtbutglow’r,
Sighing, dumb despairing!
If she winnaease the thraws
In my bosom swelling,
Underneath the grass-green sod,
Soon maunbe my dwelling.