BONNIE JOANN

We’ve stookit the hairst an’ we’re needin’ To gaither it in, Syne, gin the morn’s dry, we’ll be leadin’ An’ wark’ll begin; But noo I’ll awa doon the braeside My lane, while I can— Wha kens wha he’ll meet by the wayside, My bonnie Joann? East yonder, the hairst-fields are hidin’ The sea frae my een, Gin ye keek whaur the stocks are dividin’ Ye’ll see it atween. Sae douce an’ sae still it has sleepit Since hairst-time began Like my he’rt—gin ye’d tak’ it an’ keep it My bonnie Joann. Owre a’thing the shadows gang trailin’, Owre stubble an’ strae; Frae the hedge to the fit o’ the pailin’ They rax owre the way; But the sun may gang through wi’ his beamin’ An’ traivel his span, For aye, by the licht o’ my dreamin’, I see ye, Joann. Awa frae ye, naebody’s braver, Mair wise-like an’ bauld, Aside ye, I hech an’ I haver, I’m het an’ I’m cauld; But oh! could I tell wi’out speakin’ The he’rt o’ a man, Ye micht find I’m the lad that ye’re seekin’, My bonnie Joann!