Poem by Robert Nicoll

The Beloved One

O! the rose is like her ruby lip,
    And the lily like her skin;
And her mouth like a faulded violet,
    Wi' the scented breath within;
And her eon are like yon bonnie flower
    When the dew is in its cup;
As the bee frae it its honey draws,
    I love frae them maun sip.

O! her voice is like yon little bird's
    That sits in the cherry-tree:
For the air o' the sky and the heart o' man
    It fills wi' its melodie.
Her hand is soft as the downy peach
    Upon yon branch that hings;
An' her hair its gloss sae rich has stown
    Frae the bonnie blackbird's wings!

O! her smile is like the sun that shines
    Upon yon fair wa'-flower—
As the bonnie buds this plays among,
    Her face that wanders o'er.
But a love-warm kiss o' her rosy mou'
    Wi' naething can compare,—
Sae meikle o' bliss an' holiness
    The craving heart might sair.

O! the garden-flowers are fair an' pure—
    The rose and the lily too;
An' the wall-flower rich in Nature's wealth—
    An' the peeping violet blue;
O! bonnie as Heaven itsel', an' pure,
    Are the flowers o' ilka kind;
But they ha'ena the womanly purity
    O' my darling Jeanie's mind!

1. Our Auld Gudeman
2. The Lass of Turrit Ha’
3. The Battle Word
4. The Wooing
5. The Toun Where I Was Born

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