“I love my Jean”
Of a’ the airts 1 the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west;
For there the bonnie lassie lives,
The lassie I lo’e best.
There wild woods grow, and rivers row,
And monie a hill ’s between;
But day and night my fancy’s flight
Is ever wi’ my Jean.
I see her in the dewy flowers,
I see her sweet and fair;
I hear her in the tunefu’ birds,
I hear her charm the air;
There ’s not a bonnie flower that springs
By fountain, shaw, or green;
There ’s not a bonnie bird that sings,
But minds me of my Jean.
Note 1. The points of the compass. [back]