Air,—" My laddie is gane."
FROM the rude bustling camp to the calm rural plain,
I've come, my dear Jeanie, to bless thee again ;
Still burning for honour our warriors may roam,
But the laurel I wished for, I've won it at home :
All the glories of conquest no joy could impart,
When far from the kind little girl of my heart ;
Now, safely returned, I will leave thee no more,
But love my dear Jeanie till life's latest hour.
The sweets of retirement, how pleasing to me ;
Possessing all worth, my dear Jeanie, in thee !
Our flocks' early bleating will wake us to joy,
And our raptures exceed the warm tints in the sky !
In sweet rural pastimes our days still will glide,
Till Time, looking back, will admire at his speed,
Still blooming in virtue, tho' youth then be o'er,
I'll love my dear Jeanie till life's latest hour.
Note by Ramsay.—“‘Admire at,’ that is—‘wonder at,’ according to a rather antiquated meaning of words.”
[Semple 85]