Langsyne, Beside the Woodland Burn
Langsyne, Beside the Woodland Burn | |
Robert Tannahill
| Langsyne, beside the woodland burn, Amang the broom sae yellow, I lean'd me 'neath the milk-white thorn, On nature's mossy pillow : A' 'round my seat the flowers were strew'd, That frae the wild wood I had pu'd, To weave mysel' a summer snood, To pleasure my dear fellow. | 2. I twin'd the woodbine round the rose, Its richer hues to mellow, Green sprigs of fragrant birk I chose, To busk the sedge sae yellow : The craw-flower blue, and meadow-pink, I wove in primrose-braided link, But little, little did I think I should have wove the willow. |
| 3. My bonnie lad was forc'd afar, Tost on the raging billow; Perhaps he's fa'en in bloody war, Or wreck'd on rocky shallow: Yet aye I hope for his return, As round our wonted haunts I mourn, And often by the woodland burn I pu' the weeping willow. |