Poem by Benjamin Brierley

The Bonnie Blue Ribbon

'TWAS down in the vale,
    Where the Medlock runs clear,
That I met with young Colin,
    In the fall of the year.
The glance that he gave,
    Made my heart bound with glee,—
He'd a bonnie blue ribbon,
    Tied under his knee.

He asked for my heart,
    But he'd had it before
If I'd twenty to give,
    I'd have given him a score.
My looks must have told him
    What I could not see,—
Oh, the bonnie blue ribbon,
    Tied under the knee.

His voice is so tender,
    So mellow and sweet,
Which the thrush in the gloaming
    Its tones would repeat.
The mirth of the village
    No charm had for me;
'Twas the bonnie blue ribbon,
    Tied under the knee.

But woe's me, my love
    Has been pressed to the wars;
He'll return crowned with glory,
    Or covered with scars.
If the fates be as kind,
    As his heart's been to me,
He'll wear the blue ribbon,
    Tied under the knee.

The summer is past
    And the birds are all fled,
Yet no word of my Colin,
    Is he living, or dead?
If he'd send me a line,
    'Twould be hearts-ease to me;
Or the bonnie blue ribbon,
    Tied under the knee.

Oh, why this strange feeling,
    This hope and this fear?
There's something that tells me
    My lover is near.
'Tis my Colin come back,
    To his home, and to me
With the bonnie blue ribbon,
    Tied under his knee.

1. The Waverlow Bells
2. Fall of Sebastopol
3. To My Wife
4. The Bonnie Lad with th' Apron on
5. Fotchin' th' Keaws up

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