My Nanie's Awa
Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays, And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er the braes, While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw; But to me it's delightless - my Nanie's awa. The snawdrap and primrose our woodlands adorn, And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn; They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw, They mind me o' Nanie - and Nanie's awa. Thou lavrock that springs frae the dews of the lawn The shepherd to warn o' the grey-breaking dawn, And thou mellow mavis that hails the night-fa', Give over for pity - my Nanie's awa. Come Autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and grey, And soothe me wi' tydings o' Nature's decay: The dark, dreary Winter, and wild-driving snaw, Alane can delight me - now Nanie's awa.