"_
We 'll meet beside the dusky glen, on yon burn side,
Where the bushes form a cosie den, on yon burn side;
Though the broomy knowes be green,
And there we may be seen,
Yet we 'll meet--we 'll meet at e'en down by yon burn side.
I 'll lead you to the birken bower, on yon burn side,
Sae sweetly wove wi' woodbine flower, on yon burn side;
There the busy prying eye,
Ne'er disturbs the lovers' joy,
While in ither's arms they lie, down by yon burn side,
Awa', ye rude, unfeeling crew, frae yon burn side,
Those fairy scenes are no for you, by yon burn side;
There fancy smoothes her theme,
By the sweetly murm'ring stream,
And the rock-lodged echoes skim, down by yon burn side.
Now the plantin' taps are tinged wi' goud, on yon burn side,
And gloamin' draws her foggy shroud o'er yon burn side;
Far frae the noisy scene,
I 'll through the fields alane,
There we 'll meet, my ain dear Jean, down by yon burn side.
[80] The poet and one of his particular friends, Charles Marshall (whose
son, the Rev. Charles Marshall, of Dunfermline, is author of a
respectable volume, entitled "Lays and Lectures"), had met one evening
in a tavern, kept by Tom Buchanan, near the cross of Paisley. The
evening was enlivened by song-singing; and the landlord, who was
present, sung the old song, beginning, "There grows a bonny brier-bush,"
which he did with effect.
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