smile:
perfe whisper'd, passing by,
“behold the ss o' ballochmyle!”
fair is the morn in flowery may,
and sweet is night in autumn mild;
when roving thro' the garden gay,
or wand&# in the lonely wild:
but woman, nature's darling child!
there all her charms she does pile;
even there her other works are foil'd
by the bonie ss o' ballochmyle.
o, had she been a try maid,
and i the happy try swain,
tho' shelter'd in the lowest shed
that ever rose on sd's pin!
thro' weary winter's wind and rain,
The Lass O Ballochmyle(2/3)