Yes, Mary, though the torrent rave,
Wi' jealous spite, to keep me frae thee,
Its deepest flood I 'd bauldly brave,
For ae sweet secret moment wi' thee.
The watch-dog's howling loads the blast,
And makes the nightly wand'rer eerie;
But when the lonesome way is past,
I 'll to this bosom clasp my Mary!
Yes, Mary, though stern winter rave,
With a' his storms, to keep me frae thee,
The wildest dreary night I 'd brave,
For ae sweet secret moment wi' thee.
[82] The ruin of Crockston Castle is situated on the brow of a gentle
eminence, about three miles south-east of Paisley. The Castle, in the
twelfth century, was possessed by a Norman family, of the name of Croc;
it passed, in the following century, by the marriage of the heiress,
into a younger branch of the House of Stewart, who were afterwards
ennobled as Earls of Lennox. According to tradition, Queen Mary and Lord
Darnley occasionally resided in the castle; and it is reported that the
unfortunate princess witnessed from its walls the fall of her fortunes
at the battle of Langside. Crockston Castle is now the possession of Sir
John Maxwell, Bart., of Pollock.
THE BRAES O' BALQUHITHER.[83]
AIR--_"The Three Carls o' Buchanan."_
Let us go, lassie, go
To the braes o' Balquhither,
Where the blaeberries grow
'Mang the bonnie Highland heather;
Where the deer and the rae,
Lightly bounding together,
Sport the lang summer day
On the braes o' Balquhither.
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