Fair Jenny

Whare are the joys I hae met in the morning,
That danced to the lark's early sang?
Whare is the Peace that awaited my wandring
At e'enin the wild-woods amang?

Nae mair a winding the course o' yon river,
And marking sweet flowerets sae fair,
Nae mair I trace the gay light footsteps o' pleasure,
But Sorrow, & sad sighing Care. -

Is it that Simmer's forsaken our vallies,
And grim, surly winter is near?
No, no, the bees humming round the gay roses,
Proclaim it the pride o' the year. -

Fain wad I hide what I fear to discover,
yet lang, lang too wall hae I known,
She, the sweet cause A' that has caused the wreck in my bosom,
Is Jenny, sweet fair Jenny alone. -
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