Jock And Jean.

JOCK.

O'er the deep wi' me, lassie,
Will you, will you?
Sail the sounding sea, lassie,
Will you, will you?
Where the Sacramento flows,
'Twixt the peaks of sifted snows,
Past the fadeless Southron rose,
Sweeter than the heather-blows,
Lassie, lassie?


JEAN.

O'er the deep wi' thee, laddie,
Will I, will I,
Sail the sounding sea, laddie,
Will I, will I,
Whether rivers fail or flow,
Whether roses blanch or blow,
Where thou goest, I will go,
As your loving Jean, my Jo,
Laddie, laddie!


JOCK.

O'er the deep wi' me, lassie,
Will you, will you?
Sail the sounding sea, lassie,
Will you, will you?
Where the mountains, crowned with pine,
Dipping to the western brine,
Shade, with everlasting vine,
Golden grape and countless kine,
Lassie, lassie?


JEAN.

O'er the deep wi' thee, laddie,
Will I, will I,
Sail the sounding sea, laddie,
Will I, will I,
Whether mountains dip or bear
Heavenward through our future air,
Princely feast or peasant fare,
What thou darest, I will dare,
Laddie, laddie!


JOCK.

O'er the deep wi' me, lassie,
Will you, will you?
Sail the sounding sea, lassie,
Will you, will you?
Where the lambies, on the braes,
Gambol in the golden haze,
And the solar disc delays
Heaven throughout the happy days,
Lassie, lassie?


JEAN.

O'er the deep wi' thee, laddie,
Will I, will I,
Sail the sounding sea, laddie,
Will I, will I,
Wheresoe'er thy feet delay,
Drenched in rain or golden spray,
To the end of life's long day,
I will love thee as I say,
Laddie, laddie!


JOCK AND JEAN.

O'er the deep wi' thee, dearie,
Will I, will I,
Sail the sounding sea, dearie,
Will I, will I,
'Neath the starred or starless sky,
Heaven is where the heart beats high,
With a love that cannot die;
So we wander, you and I,
Dearie, dearie!

A. H. Laidlaw

No biography available

A. H. Laidlaw

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Of A' The Airts The Wind Can Blaw

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    Of a' the airts the wind can blaw,
        I dearly like the west,
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II.

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    There's not a bonnie bird that sings,
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Bonnie Jean.

I.

    There was a lass, and she was fair,
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II.

    And aye she wrought her mammie's wark,
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III.

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IV.

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And what will ye hear, my daughters dear? -
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Blue was the loch, [1] the clouds were gone,
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Beloved Sister, since with thee
The legend on the stone was read.
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And songs are heard at close of day;
That too, the deer's wild covert, fled,
And that, the Asylum of the Dead:
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His arm that fell below his knee,
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