237. Song—It is na Jean thy Bonie Face

 IT is na, Jean, thy bonie face,
 Nor shape that I admire;
Altho’ thy beauty and thy grace
 Might weel awauk desire.



Something, in ilka part o’ thee,
 To praise, to love, I find,
But dear as is thy form to me,
 Still dearer is thy mind.



Nae mair ungenerous wish I hae,
 Nor stronger in my breast,
Than, if I canna make thee sae,
 At least to see thee blest.



Content am I, if heaven shall give
 But happiness, to thee;
And as wi’ thee I’d wish to live,
 For thee I’d bear to die.

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