大象传媒

Adown winding Nith I did wander,
To mark the sweet flowers as they spring;
Adown winding Nith I did wander,
Of Phillis to muse and to sing.

Awa wi' your Belles and your Beauties,
They never wi' her can compare:
Wha-ever has met wi' my Phillis,
Has met wi' the Queen o' the Fair.

The Daisy amus'd my fond fancy,
So artless, so simple, so wild:
Thou emblem, said I, o' my Phillis,
For she is simplicity's child.

The rose-bud's the blush o' my Charmer,
Her sweet balmy lip when 'tis prest:
How fair and how pure is the lily,
But fairer and purer her breast.

Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,
They ne'er wi' my Phillis can vie:
Her breath is the breath o' the woodbine,
Its dew-drop o' diamond, her eye.

Her voice is the songs of the morning,
That wake thro' the green-spreading grove;
When Phebus peeps over the mountains
On music, and pleasure, and love.

But Beauty, how frail and how fleeting,
The bloom of a fine summer's day;
While Worth in the mind of my Phillis
Will flourish without a decay.

Awa wi' your Belles and your Beauties,
They never wi' her can compare:
Wha-ever has met wi' my Phillis,
Has met wi' the Queen o' the Fair.

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