Again, in such songs as _Of a' the Airts_, _Poortith Cauld_, and
others addressed to Jean herself, we have an expression of his less
than rapturous but entirely genuine affection for his wife.
OF A' THE AIRTS
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw, [directions]
I dearly like the west,
For there the bonnie lassie lives,
The lassie I lo'e best: [love]
There wild woods grow, and rivers row, [roll]
And mony a hill between;
But day and night my fancy's flight
Is ever wi' my Jean.
I see her in the dewy flowers,
I see her sweet and fair:
I hear her in the tunefu' birds,
I hear her charm the air:
There's not a bonnie flower that springs
By fountain, shaw, or green; [woodland]
There's not a bonnie bird that sings,
But minds me o' my Jean.
O THIS IS NO MY AIN LASSIE
O this is no my ain lassie,
Fair tho' the lassie be;
O weel ken I my ain lassie,
Kind love is in her e'e.
I see a form, I see a face,
Ye weel may wi' the fairest place:
It wants, to me, the witching grace,
The kind love that's in her e'e.
She's bonnie, blooming, straight, and tall,
And lang has had my heart in thrall;
And aye it charms my very saul, [soul]
The kind love that's in her e'e.
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