Chansons écossaises

Ô joli lutin des bois
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Blink over the burn, sweet Betty,
  Blink over the burn to me;
Blink over the burn, sweet Betty,
  An' I 'll gang alang wi' thee;
Though father and mither forbade it,
  Forbidden I wadna be;
Blink over the burn, sweet Betty,
  An' I 'll gang alang wi' thee.

The cheek o' my love 's like the rose-bud,
  Blushing red wi' the mornin' dew,
Her hair 's o' the loveliest auburn,
  Her ee 's o' the bonniest blue;
Her lips are like threads o' the scarlet,
  Disclosing a pearly row;
Her high-swelling, love-heaving bosom
  Is white as the mountain snow.

But it isna her beauty that hauds me,
  A glitterin' chain winna lang bind;
'Tis her heavenly seraph-like sweetness,
  An' the graces adornin' her mind;
She 's dear to my soul as the sunbeam
  Is dear to the summer's morn,
An' she says, though her father forbade it,
  She 'll ne'er break the vows she has sworn.

Her father's a canker'd auld carle,
  He swears he will ne'er gie consent;
Such carles should never get daughters,
  Unless they can mak them content;
But she says, though her father forbade it,
  Forbidden she winna be;
Blink over the burn, sweet Betty,
  An' I 'll gang alang wi' thee.

"Why weep ye by the tide, ladie,
  Why weep ye by the tide?
I'll wed ye tae my youngest son,
  And ye'll shall be his bride;
And ye'll shall be his bride, ladie,
  Sae comely tae be seen;"
But aye she loot the tears down fa'
  For Jock o' Hazeldean.

"Now let this wilfu' grief be done,
  And dry that cheek so pale;
Young Frank is chief of Errington,
  And lord of Langley-dale;
His step is first in peaceful ha',
  His sword in battle keen;"
But aye she loot the tears down fa'
  For Jock o' Hazeldean.

"A chain of gold ye sall not lack,
  Nor braid to bind your hair;
Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk,
  Nor palfrey fresh and fair;
And you, the foremost o' them a',
  Shall ride our forest queen" --
But aye she loot the tears down fa'
  For Jock of Hazeldean. 

The kirk was deck'd at morning-tide,
  The tapers glimmer'd fair;
The priest and bridegroom wait the bride,
  And dame and knight are there.
They sought her baith by bower and ha';
  The ladie was not seen!
She's o'er the Border, and awa'
  Wi' Jock o' Hazeldean!

Pourquoi belle au si doux regard ?
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Bonie lassie, will ye go,
Will ye go, will ye go,
Bonie lassie, will ye go
To the birks of Aberfeldy?
Now simmer blinks on flow'ry braes,
And o'er the chrystal streamlet plays;
Come let us spend the lightsome days
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonie lassie, &c.
The little birdies blythely sing,
While o'er their heads the hazels hing,
Or lightly flit on wanton wing
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonie lassie, &c.
The braes ascend like lofty wa's,
The foaming stream deep roaring fa's,
O'er-hung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonie lassie, &c.
The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers,
White o'er the linns the burnie pours,
And rising weets wi' misty showers
The birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonie lassie, &c.
Let Fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love and thee
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

Viens Mignonne dans les bois
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