James Hogg

The Braes of Bushby

AE glentin’ cheerfu’ simmer morn,
As I cam o’er the riggs o’ Lorn,
I heard a lassie all forlorn
  Lamentin’ for her Johnny, O.
Her wild notes poured the air alang;
The Highland rocks an’ woodlands rang;
An’ ay the o’erword o’ her sang
  Was Bushby braes are bonny, O.

On Bushby braes where blossoms blow,
Where blooms the brier an’ sulky sloe,
There first I met my only Joe,
  My dear, my faithfu’ Johnny, O;
The grove was dark, sae dark an’ sweet;
Where first my lad an’ I did meet;
The roses blushed around our feet:
  Then Bushby braes were bonny, O.

Departed joys, how soft, how dear!
That frae my e’e still wrings the tear!
Yet still the hope my heart shall cheer
  Again to meet my Johnny, O.
The primrose saw, an’ blue harebell,
But nane o’ them our love can tell,
The thrilling joy I felt too well,
  When Bushby braes were bonny, O.

My lad is in the Baltic gane
To fight the proud an’ doubtfu’ Dane.
For our success my heart is fain;
  But ’t is maistly for my Johnny, O.
Then, Cupid, smooth the German sea,
An’ bear him back to Lorn an’ me!
An’ a’ my life I ’ll sing wi’ glee,
  The Bushby braes are bonny, O.