Andrew Scott

Coquet Water

WHAN winter winds forget to blaw,
  An’ vernal suns revive pale nature,
A shepherd lad by chance I saw,
  Feeding his flocks by Coquet Water.

Saft, saft he sung, in melting lays,
  His Mary’s charms an’ matchless feature,
While echoes answered frae the braes
  That skirt the banks of Coquet Water.

“O, were that bonnie lassie mine,”
  Quoth he, “in love’s saft wiles I ’d daut her;
An’ deem mysel’ as happy syne,
  As landit laird on Coquet Water.

“Let wealthy rakes for pleasure roam,
  In foreign lands their fortune fritter;-
But love’s pure joys be mine at home,
  Wi’ my dear lass on Coquet Water.

“Gi’e fine folks wealth, yet what care I,
  Gi’e me her smiles whom I lo’e better;
Blest wi’ her love an’ life’s calm joy,
  Tending my flocks by Coquet Water.

“Flow fair an’ clear, thou bonnie stream,
  For on thy banks aft hae I met her;
Fair may the bonnie wild-flowers gleam,
  That busk the banks of Coquet Water.