Glen Collection of printed music > Printed music > Lays of the heather

159
There’s ne’er a stream that seeks the sea,
Nor river hauf sae dear tae me
As thou, wee nameless burn;
That rows sae gently roun’ the field,
That lies beside my lassie’s bield
Where aft a wanton wean she brield;
Wi’ mony a merry turn.
3.
But noo$ alakel my lassie gangs
Her leafu’ lane, tae hear your sangs;
Sweet burn, that sings sae clear!
Sae whan she gazes on your brink,
Wi’ tentie ears your muse tae drink,
Oh! sing a sang ’ll mak’ her think:
O’ ane that lo’es her dear.