The Rose Of The Glen
Although I've no money or treasure to give,
No palace or cottage wherein I may live,
Altho' I can't boast of high blood or degree,
Than all these my sweet Rose is dearer to me.
The lambs on the mountain are frisky and gay,
The birds in the forest are restless with play,
The maidens rejoice at the advent of spring,
Yet my fair Rose to me more enjoyment can bring.