194. Song—Blythe was She

 Chorus.—Blythe, blythe and merry was she,
 Blythe was she but and ben;
Blythe by the banks of Earn,
 And blythe in Glenturit glen.


BY 1 Oughtertyre grows the aik,
 On Yarrow banks the birken shaw;
But Phemie was a bonier lass
 Than braes o’ Yarrow ever saw.
 Blythe, blythe, &c.


Her looks were like a flow’r in May,
 Her smile was like a simmer morn:
She tripped by the banks o’ Earn,
 As light’s a bird upon a thorn.
 Blythe, blythe, &c.


Her bonie face it was as meek
 As ony lamb upon a lea;
The evening sun was ne’er sae sweet,
 As was the blink o’ Phemie’s e’e.
 Blythe, blythe, &c.


The Highland hills I’ve wander’d wide,
 And o’er the Lawlands I hae been;
But Phemie was the blythest lass
 That ever trod the dewy green.
 Blythe, blythe, &c.


 Note 1. Written at Oughtertyre. Phemie is Miss Euphemia Murray, a cousin of Sir William Murray of Oughtertyre.—Lang. [back

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