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The lassie by the streamlet side, She was so sweet aod fair,
That oft I took the rod aside, To drive away my care.
With eye askance, I glisten'd by Her dwelling, near the stream ;
My tackle and my bonny fly, But prov'd an empty dream.
The flow'ry banks and rippling rill, Whose music charms the ear ;
No longer my desire could fill, Since Jeanie prov'd so dear.
I vow'd each day no trout I'd kill, Nor salmon tempt with fly ;
Till my love, by the purling rill, My merits should descry.
But ah, she look'd so shy and blate, My heart was like to faint ;
So many hours she'd make me wait, 'Twould vex a very saint.
Down by the dell she'd slowly move. With coyness in her looks,
As if the wayward path of love Lay straight among the hooks.