the soldier's return

air—“the mill, mill, o.”

when wild war's deadly blast was blawn,

and gentle peace returning,

wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless,

and mony a widow mourning;

i left the lines and tented field,

where lang i'd been a lodger,

my humble knapsack a' my wealth,

a poor and honest sodger.

a leal, light heart was in my breast,

my hand unstain'd wi' plunder;

and for fair scotia hame again,

i cheery on did wander:

i thought upon the banks o' coil,

i thought upon my nancy,

i thought upon the witching smile

that caught my youthful fancy.

at length i reach'd the bonie glen,

where early life i sported;

i pass'd the mill and trysting thorn,

where nancy aft i courted:

wha spied i but my ain dear maid,

down by her mother's dwelling!

and turn'd me round to hide the flood

that in my een was swelling.

wi' alter'd voice, h i, “sweet lass,

sweet as yon hawthorn's blossom,

o! happy, happy may he be,

that's dearest to thy bosom:

my purse is light, i've far to gang,

and fain would be thy lodger;

i've serv'd my king and country lang—