Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Harp of Renfrewshire

THE THORN TREE.
When the gloamin' fa's,
When the saft win' blaws,
Laden wi' fragrance frae moorland and lee,
Come, my lassie, then,
Down the lonely glen,
And meet wi' your true love beneath the thorn tree.
Come at day's sweetest hour,
Come 'mid each closin' flower.
Come wi' the hum o' the last stragglin' bee ;
Come frae the clachan's din.
Come when your lambs are in,
For then your love waits you beneath the thorn tree.
Come when the south winds sigh
O'er where the violets lie.
When Simmer's lang day is closin' its e'e ;
Come when the laverock sings
His sang on wearied wings.
And nestle beside me beneath the thorn tree.
Ah ! lassie, weel I ken
There are shepherds in the glen
Would part wi' a' their gowd your rosy lips to pree ;
Yet care na for them a',
But blithely come awa'.
An' meet wi' him that lo'es you beneath the thorn tree!