The Lea-Rig Songtext
von Jean Redpath

When o′er the hill the eastern star
Tells bughtin time is near, my jo,
And owsen frae the furrow'd field
Return sae dowf and weary O;
Down by the burn, where birken buds
Wi′ dew are hangin clear, my jo,
I'll meet thee on the lea-rig,
My ain kind Dearie O.
At midnight hour, in mirkest glen,
I'd rove, and ne′er be eerie, O,
If thro′ that glen I gaed to thee,
My ain kind Dearie O;


Altho' the night were ne′er sae wild,
And I were ne'er sae weary O,
I′ll meet thee on the lea-rig,
My ain kind Dearie O.
The hunter lo'es the morning sun;
To rouse the mountain deer, my jo;
At noon the fisher seeks the glen
Adown the burn to steer, my jo:
Gie me the hour o′ gloamin' grey,
It maks my heart sae cheery O,
To meet thee on the lea-rig,
My ain kind Dearie O.