song.—o, were i on parnassus hill

tune—“my love is lost to me.”

o, were i on parnassus hill,

or had o' helicon my fill,

that i might catch poetic skill,

to sing how dear i love thee!

but nith maun be my muse's well,

my muse maun be thy bonie sel',

on corsincon i'll glowr and spell,

and write how dear i love thee.

thene, sweet muse, inspire my lay!

for a' the lee-lang simmer's day

i couldna sing, i couldna say,