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.
Chorus.Awa wi your belles and your beauties,
They never wi her can compare,
Whaever has met wi my Phillis,
Has met wi the queen o the fair.
The daisy amusd my fond fancy,
So artless, so simple, so wild;
Thou emblem, said I, o my Phillis
For she is Simplicitys child.
Awa wi your belles, &c.
The rose-buds 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.
Awa wi your belles, &c.
Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,
They neer wi my Phillis can vie:
Her breath is the breath of the woodbine,
Its dew-drop o diamond her eye.
Awa wi your belles, &c.
Her voice is the song o the morning,
That wakes thro the green-spreading grove
When Phoebus peeps over the mountains,
On music, and pleasure, and love.
Awa wi your belles, &c.
But beauty, how frail and how fleeting!
The bloom of a fine summers day;
While worth in the mind o my Phillis,
Will flourish without a decay.
Awa wi your belles, &c.