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Poem by Richard Gall
My Only Joy and Dearie, O'
Thy cheek is o' the rose's hue, My only jo an' dearie, O; Thy neck is like the siller dew Upon the banks sae briery, O; Thy teeth are o' the ivory, O, sweet 's the twinkle o' thine e'e! Nae joy, nae pleasure, blinks on me, My only jo an' dearie, O. The birdie sings upon the thorn, Its sang o' joy, fu' cheerie, O, Rejoicing in the simmer morn, Nae care to make it eerie, O; But little kens the sangster sweet, Ought o' the care I hae to meet, That gars my restless bosom beat, My only jo an' dearie, O. Whan we were bairnies on yon brae, An' youth was blinking bonny, O, Aft we wad daff the lee lang day, Our joys fu' sweet an' mony, O; Aft I wad chase thee o'er the lea, An' round about the thorny tree; Or pu' the wild flowers a' for thee, My only jo an' dearie, O. I hae a wish I canna tine, 'Mang a' the cares that grieve me, O; I wish that thou wert ever mine, An' never mair to leave me, O; Then I wad dawt thee night an' day, Nae ither warldly care wad hae, Till life's warm stream forgat to play, My only jo an' dearie, O.
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