The cushie doos are cooin’ in the birk,
The pee-weets are cryin’ on the lea,
The starlings in the belfry o’ the kirk
Are layin’ plans as merry as can be.
The mavis in the plantin’ has a mate,
The blackbird is busy wi’ his nest,
Then why until the summer should we wait
When spring could see us happy as the rest?
There's leaves upon the bourtree on the haugh,
The blossom is drappin’ fae the gean,
There's buds upon the rantree an’ the saugh,
The ferns about the Lady's Well are green.
A’ day the herd is liltin’ on the hill,
The o'ercome o’ ilka sang‘ s the same:
“There are ower mony maidens at the Mill,
It's time the ane I trysted wi’ cam’ hame!”