I Met Her in the Gloaming

Twas at the hours o evening when low descends the dew
When the ring dove seeks the pollard oak and lays a stick or two
And lays her two white eggs aye whiter than the snow
And feeds her young i' golden down from the green peafield below
It was a pleasant evening and the brook in silver moans
Sang its evening song under grass and over stones
Among the pasture whins I will seek for Sally now
Where hangs the red cheeked apple upon the oak tree bough

I'll meet her when the western cloud burns crimson i' the sky
And leaves her mop agen the door and gangs to meet the kye
When the bramble hangs on drops by the old lane side
And the' evening star is shineing o'er the black woods far and wide
When the daisy turns a bud and the lark is on her nest
When the babe is in the cradle or on the Mothers breast
I bide me i' the gloaming and down the green path hie
And meet my bonny sweetheart at the milking o' the kye

I met her in the gloaming it was but Sunday e'en
Blue ribbons on her white straw hat her bonny gown was green
I kissed her bonny cheek and chin and nipped her rosy arms
Frae milking to the gloaming I feasted on her charms
And now where fin weeds are in flower and the wild thyme scents the plain
I'll gang to night to Sally and [kiss] her o'er again
The moth is on the keksies on the teazle sleep[s] the Flye
And I'll gang the dewy e'ening where Sally milks the kye
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