THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST I've heard them lilting, at our ewe-milking, Lasses a-lilting, before the dawn of day: But now they are moaning, on ilka green loaning; The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.

In hairst, at the shearing, nae youths now are jeering, The bandsters are lyart, and runkled and gray; At fair or at preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.

At e'en, in the gloaming, nae swankies are roaming 'Bout stacks wi' the lasses at bogle to play; But ilk ane sits eerie, lamenting her dearie The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.

We'll hear nae more lilting at our ewe-milking, Women and bairns are heartless and wae; Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning, The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.

Wede, passed, faded.

loaning The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.

In harst, at the shearing, nae youths now are jeering, Bandsters are lyart, and runkled, and gray; At fair or at preaching, nae wooing, nae fleeching The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.

loaning The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.