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Dinah Maria Mulock - Rothesay Bay
Work rating: Low

FU` yellow lie the corn rigs 
Far doun the braid hillside; 
It is the brawest harst field 
Alang the shores o`Clyde,-- 
And I`m a puir harst-lassie 
That stan`s the lee-lang day 
Shearing the corn-rigs of Ardbeg 
Aboon sweet Rothesay Bay. 

O I had ance a true-love,-- 
Now, I hae nane ava; 
And I had ance three brithers, 
But I hae tint them a`; 
My father and my mither 
Sleep i` the mools this day. 

I sit my lane amang the rigs 
Aboon sweet Rothesay Bay. 

It`s a bonnie bay at morning, 
And bonnier at the noon, 
But it`s bonniest when the sun draps 
And red comes up the moon: 
When the mist creeps o`er the Cambrays, 
And Arran peaks are gray, 
And the great black hills, like sleepin` kings, 
Sit grand roun` Rothesay Bay, 

Then a bit sigh stirs my bosom, 
And a wee tear blin`s my e`e,-- 
And I think o`that far Countrie 
What I wad like to be! 
But I rise content i` the morning 
To wark while wark I may 
I` the yellow harst field of Ardbeg 
Aboon sweet Rothesay Bay.
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