Katharine Airlie

O a' the flowers o' scottish land
Oer hill & valley blooming
There's nane that has the worlds command
& looks sae sweet as woman
She is the pink of each paterre
Though three times doubled fairley
& war they sweeter then they are
They'd not match Cathrine Airlie.

Ive often trod the scottish dells
& clomb her mountains high
Where bush & tree upon the fells
Touched the cieling of the sky
& maids I've a'maist seen them a'
& talked baith late & early
But fews sae fair & nane sae bra'
As bonny Catharine Airlie.

O bonny is the gowan blue
Beneath the Lammie's claie's
& never bluimed a flower mair true
On vales or mountain braes
To catch the dew & tell the spring
With showers that sprinkle's early
But nae flower fanned by birdies wing
Can match with Katharine Airly.

Mair fair then lilies o' the vale
Mair sweet then roses are
That bluims in bonny Teviotdale
Theres ne'er a rose sae fair
As is her sweet & bonny face
The like is seen but rarely
There's near a rose in ony place
Like bonny Katharine Airlie.

Sae lang as scotland hills are green
& vallies pour their floods
Sae lang as nature's soveriegn queen
Oer mountains plains & woods
Sae lang the lily o' the land
The flower o' late & early
The dearest flower in loves command
Is my sweet Katharine Airlie.
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