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| WHEN I upon thy bosom lean, | |
| And fondly clasp thee a’ my ain, | |
| I glory in the sacred ties | |
| That made us ane, wha ance were twain. | |
| A mutual flame inspires us baith— | 5 |
| The tender look, the melting kiss; | |
| Even years shall ne’er destroy our love, | |
| But only gi’e us change o’ bliss. | |
| |
| Ha’e I a wish? it’s a’ for thee, | |
| I ken thy wish is me to please; | 10 |
| Our moments pass sae smooth away | |
| That numbers on us look and gaze. | |
| Weel pleased, they see our happy days, | |
| Nor envy’s sel’ finds aught to blame; | |
| And aye when weary cares arise, | 15 |
| Thy bosom still shall be my hame. | |
| |
| I’ll lay me there and tak’ my rest; | |
| And if that aught disturb my dear, | |
| I’ll bid her laugh her cares away, | |
| And beg her not to drap a tear. | 20 |
| Ha’e I a joy? it’s a’ her ain. | |
| United still her heart and mine; | |
| They’re like the woodbine round the tree, | |
| That’s twined till death shall them disjoin. | |
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