Allan Cunningham

Bonnie Jeanie Walkinshaw

THE MOONBEAM sleeps on Undercliff,
  The sea is lulled and calm,
The honey-bee has left the rose,
  The lily lies in balm;
And all is music that we hear,
  All lovely that we see,—
O bonnie Jeanie Walkinshaw,
  ’T is then I think on thee.

The gladsome sun of May returns
  With sweet flowers in his train,
And bird and bee in bower and lea
  Break into song again.
What May’s bright sun is to the flowers,
  The flowers to bird and bee,
O gentle Jeanie Walkinshaw,
  Thou ’rt that and more to me.

I see thee shining on thy hills,
  Like a young beam of light,
And O, I think how bright thou ’lt be
  When all with me is night!
But, gentle one, a smile of thine
  Will make my song flow free,
Then, bonnie Jeanie Walkinshaw,
  I ’ll owe my fame to thee.