Cessnock Banks

On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells;

Could I describe her shape and mien;

Our lasses a' she far excels,—

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

She's sweeter than the morning dawn,

When rising Phœbus first is seen,

And dew-drops twinkle o'er the lawn;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

She's stately, like yon youthful ash,

That grows the cowslip braes between,

And drinks the stream wi' vigour fresh;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

She's spotless like the flow'ring thorn,

With flow'rs so white, and leaves so green,

When purest in the dewy morn;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her looks are like the vernal May,

When ev'ning Phœbus shines serene,

While birds rejoice on every spray;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her hair is like the curling mist

That climbs the mountain-sides at e'en,

When flow'r-reviving rains are past;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her forehead 's like the show'ry bow,

When gleaming sunbeams intervene,

And gild the distant mountain's brow;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem,

The pride of all the flow'ry scene,

Just op'ning on its thorny stem;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her teeth are like the nightly snow,

When pale the morning rises keen,

While hid the murm'ring streamlets flow;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her lips are like yon cherries ripe,

That sunny walls from Boreas screen,

They tempt the taste and charm the sight;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her breath is like the fragrant breeze,

That gently stirs the blossom'd bean,

When Phœbus sinks behind the seas;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush,

That sings on Cessnock banks unseen,

While his mate sits nestling in the bush;

An' she 's twa sparkling, rogueish een.

But it's not her air, her form, her face,

Though matching beauty's fabled queen,

'Tis the mind that shines in every grace;

An' chiefly in her rogueish een.