Александр Ленг (Alexander Laing)

Lass of Logie

I ’VE seen the smiling summer flower
  Amang the braes of Yarrow;
I ’ve heard the raving winter wind
  Amang the hills of Barra;
I ’ve wandered Scotland o’er and o’er,
  Frae Teviot to Strathbogie:
But the bonniest lass that I ha’e seen
  Is bonnie Jean of Logie.

Her lips were like the heather bloom,
  In meekest dewy morning;
Her cheeks were like the ruddy leaf,
  The bloomy brier adorning;
Her brow was like the milky flower
  That blossoms in the bogie;
And love was laughing in her een,—
  The bonnie lass of Logie.

I said, “My lassie, come wi’ me,
  My hand, my name, are ready;
I ha’e a lairdship of my ain,
  And ye shall be my ladye.
I ’ve ilka thing baith out and in,
  To make you blythe and vogie.”
She hung her head and sweetly smiled,—
  The bonnie lass of Logie!

But she has smiled, and fate has frowned,
  And wrung my heart with sorrow;
The bonnie lass sae dear to me
  Can never be my marrow.
For ah! she loves another lad,—	
  The ploughman wi’ his cogie;
Yet happy, happy may she be,
  The bonnie lass of Logie!

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