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Poem by Alexander Balfour


The Bonny Lass o Leven Water


THOUGH siller Tweed rin oer the lea,
  An dark the Dee mang Highland heather,
Yet siller Tweed an drumly Dee
  Are not sae dear as Leven Water:
When Nature formed our favorite isle,
  An a her sweets began to scatter,
She looked, with fond, approving smile,
  Alang the banks o Leven Water.

On flowery braes, at gloamin gray,
  T is sweet to scent the primrose springin;
Or through the woodlands green to stray,
  In ilka buss the mavis singin:
But sweeter than the woodlands green,
  Or primrose painted fair by Nature,
Is she wha smiles, a rural queen,
  The bonny lass o Leven Water!

The sunbeam in the siller dew,
  That hangs upon the hawthorns blossom,
Shines faint beside her een sae blue;
  An purer is her spotless bosom.
Her smile wad thaw a hermits breast;
  There s love an truth in ilka feature;
For her I m past baith wark an rest,
  The bonny lass o Leven Water!

But I m a lad o laigh degree,	
  Her purse-proud daddy s dour an saucy;
An sair the carle wad scowl on me,
  For speakin to his dawtit lassie:
But were I laird o Levens glen,
  An she a humble shepherds daughter,	
I d kneel, an court her for my ain,
  The bonny lass o Leven Water!



Alexander Balfour

Poem Themes: Rivers, Leven

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