The lea-rig

written in 1792

When o'er the hill the eastern star Tells bughtin-time is near, my jo, And owsen frae the furrow'd field Return sae dowf and weary O; Down by the burn where scented birks Wi' dew are hangin clear, my jo, I'll meet thee on the lea-rig, My ain kind Dearie O. At midnight hour, in mirkest glen, I'd rove and ne'er be irie O, If thro' that glen I gaed to thee, My ain kind Dearie O: Altho' the night were ne'er sae wet, And I were ne'er sae weary O, I'll meet thee on the lea-rig, My ain kind Dearie O. The hunter lo'es the morning sun; To rouse the mountain deer, my jo; At noon the fisher seeks the glen, Adown the burn to steer, my jo: Gie me the hour o' gloamin grey, It maks my heart sae cheary O To meet thee on the lea-rig, My ain kind Dearie O.