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Song.—O, Were I On Parnassus Hill

Tune—"My love is lost to me."

     O, were I on Parnassus hill,
     Or had o' Helicon my fill,
     That I might catch poetic skill,
     To sing how dear I love thee!
     But Nith maun be my Muse's well,
     My Muse maun be thy bonie sel',
     On Corsincon I'll glowr and spell,
     And write how dear I love thee.

     Then come, sweet Muse, inspire my lay!
     For a' the lee-lang simmer's day
     I couldna sing, I couldna say,
     How much, how dear, I love thee,
     I see thee dancing o'er the green,
     Thy waist sae jimp, thy limbs sae clean,
     Thy tempting lips, thy roguish een—
     By Heaven and Earth I love thee!

     By night, by day, a-field, at hame,
     The thoughts o' thee my breast inflame:
     And aye I muse and sing thy name—
     I only live to love thee.
     Tho' I were doom'd to wander on,
     Beyond the sea, beyond the sun,
     Till my last weary sand was run;
     Till then—and then I love thee!

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