Classic Poem

O, Weel befa' the maiden gay,
In cottage, bught, or penn!
An' weel befa' the bonny May
That wons in yonder glen!
Wha lo'es the modest truth sae weel,
Wha's aye sae kind, an' aye sae leal,
An' pure as blooming asphodel
Amang sae mony men!
O, weel befa' the bonny thing
That wons in yonder glen!

'Tis sweet to hear the music float
Alang the gloaming lea;
'Tis sweet to hear the blackbird's note
Come pealing frae the tree;
To see the lambkin's lightsome race,
The dappled kid in wanton chase,
The young deer cower in lonely place,
Deep in his flowery den;
But sweeter far the bonny fare
That smiles in yonder glen!

O, had it no' been for the blush
O' maiden's virgin flame,
Dear Beauty never had been known,
An' never had a name;
But aye sin' that dear thing o' blame
Was modelled by an angel's frame,
The power o' beauty reigns supreme
O'er a' the sons o' men;
But deadliest far the sacred flame
Burns in a lonely glen!

There's beauty in the violet's vest,
There's hinny in the haw;
There's dew within the rose's breast,
The sweetest o' them a';
The sun will rise and set again,
An' lace wi' burning gowd the main,
The rainbow bend out-ower the plain,
Sae lovely to the ken;
But lovelier far the bonny thing
That wons in yonder glen!