The Rowan Tree.

Oh! rowan tree, oh! rowan tree, thou'lt aye be dear to me;
[infancy.
Entwin'd thou art wi' mony ties o' hame and Thy leaves were aye the first o' spring, thy flow'rs the simmer's pride;
There was na sic a bonnie tree in a' the country side.
Oh! rowan tree.
How fair wert thou in simmer time, wi' a thy clusters white:
How rich and gay thy autumn dress, wi' berries red and bright;
[nae mair I see,
On thy fair stem were mony names, which now But they're engraven on my heart, forgot they ne'er can be.
Oh! rowan tree.

We sat aneath thy spreading shade, the bairnies round thee ran,
[they strang;
They pu'd thy bonnie berries red, and necklaces
My mither, oh! I see her still, she smiled our sports to see,
Wi' little Jeanie on her lap, and Jamie at her knee.
Oh! rowan tree.
Oh! there arose my father's prayer in holy ev'ning's calm,
How sweet was then my mother's voice, in the Martyrs psalm!
[rowan tree,
Now a' are gane! we meet nae mair aneath the
But hallowed thoughts around thee twine o' hame and infancy.
Oh! rowan tree.