Menie

Fu' ripe, ripe was her rosy lip,
And raven was her hair;
And white, white was her swan-like neck—
Her een like starnies were!
As raven, raven was her hair,
So like the snaw her brow;
And the words that fell frae her wee saft mou'
Were happy words I trow!

And pure, pure was her maiden heart,
And ne'er a thought o' sin
Durst venture there—an angel dwelt
Its borders a' within!
And fair as was her sweet bodie,
Yet fairer was her mind;
Menie 's the queen amang the flowers—
The wale of womankind.
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