MS: 'The Bonnie Lass o' Ballochmyle'

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MS: 'The Bonnie Lass o' Ballochmyle'

Thro' weary Winter's wind and rain,
With joy, with rapture I would toil;
And nightly to my bosom strain
The bonie Lass o' Ballochmyle.

5.
Then Pride might climb the slipp'ry steep,
Where Fame and Honors lofty shine;
And Thirst of gold might tempt the deep,
Or downward seek the Indian mine:
Give me the cot below the pine,
To tend the flocks, or till the soil;
And ev'ry day has joys divine,
With th' bonie Lass o' Ballochmyle.

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