Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
192 . SongThe Bonie Lass of Albany
M
To think upon the raging sea,
That roars between her gardens green
An’ the bonie Lass of Albany.
That ruled Albion’s kingdoms three, But oh, alas! for her bonie face, They’ve wrang’d the Lass of Albany. There sits an isle of high degree, And a town of fame whose princely name Should grace the Lass of Albany. That fills the place where she should be; We’ll send him o’er to his native shore, And bring our ain sweet Albany. A false usurper wan the gree, Who now commands the towers and lands— The royal right of Albany. On bended knees most fervently, The time may come, with pipe an’ drum We’ll welcome hame fair Albany.