THE BRAES O’
GLENIFFER. Air—“Bonny Dundee.” ___ KEEN blaws the win’ o'er the braes o’
Gleniffer, The auld castle’s turrets are
cover’d wi’ snaw; How
chang’d frae the time when I met wi’ my lover, Amang the broom bushes by Stanely
green shaw: The
wild flow’rs o’ simmer war’ spread a’ sae bonny, The mavis sang sweet frae the green
birken tree; But
far to the camp they hae march’d my dear Johnnie, An’ now, it is winter, wi’ nature an’ me. Then
ilk thing around us was blithesome an’ cheery, Then ilk thing around us was bonny
an’ braw: Now
naething is heard but the wind whistlin’ dreary, An naething
is seen but the wide-spreading snaw: The
trees are a’ bare, an’ the birds mute and dowie, They shake the cauld drift frae
their wings as they flee, An’
chirp out their plaints, seeming wae for my Johnnie, ’Tis winter wi’ them, an’ ’tis
winter wi’ me. Yon
cauld sleety cloud skiffs alang the bleak mountain, An’ shakes the dark firs on the stey
rocky brae, While
down the deep glen bawls the snaw-flooded fountain
That murmur’d sae sweet to my laddie
an’ me: It’s
no its loud roar on the wint’ry win’ swellin’, It’s no the cauld blast brings the
tears i’ my e'e, For,
O gin I saw but my bonny Scots callan, The dark days o’ winter war’ simmer
to me! |