Classic Poem

Ye echoes that ring round the woods of Bowgreen,
Say, did ye e'er listen sae melting a strain,
When lovely young Jessie gaed wand'ring unseen,
And sung of her laddie, the pride of the plain.
Aye she sung Willie, my bonny young Willie!
There's no a sweet flow'r on the mountain or valley,
Mild blue spritl'd crawflow'r, nor wild woodland lily,
But tynes a' its sweets in my bonny young swain.
Thou goddess of love, keep him constant to me,
Else, with'ring in sorrow, poor Jessie shall die!

Her laddie had stray'd through the dark leafy wood,
His thoughts were a' fix'd on his dear lassie's charms,
He heard her sweet voice, all transported he stood,
'Twas the soul of his wishes — he flew to her arms.
" No, my dear Jessie! my lovely young Jessie!
Through summer, through winter, I'll daut and caress thee,
Thou'rt dearer than life! thou'rt my ae only lassie,
Then banish thy bosom these needless alarms.
Yon red setting sun sooner changeful shall be,
Ere wav'ring in falsehood I wander frae thee. "