Robert Burns, 1787
Blythe, blythe and merry was she,
Blythe was she butt and ben;
Blythe by the banks of Earn,
And blythe in Glenturit glen.
By Oughtertyre grows the aik,
2. Her looks were like a flow'r in May,|
Her smile was like a simmer morn:
Shc tripped by the banks o Earn,
As light's a bird upon a thorn.
3. Her bonie face it was as meek
4. The Highland hills I've wander'd wide,
| Song Index | Home Page |