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The Lass Of Cessnock Banks


On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells, 
Could I describe her shape and mien! 
Our lasses a' she far excels--- 
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!

She's sweeter than the morning dawn, 
When rising Phoebus first is seen, 
And dew-drops twinkle o'er the lawn--- 
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!

She's stately like yon youthful ash, 
That grows the cowslip braes between, 
And drinks the stream with vigour fresh--- 
An she has 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 has twa sparkling, rogueish een!

Her looks are like the vernal May, 
When ev'ning Phoebus shines serene, 
While birds rejoice on every spray--- 
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!

Her hair is like the curling mist, 
That climbs the mountain-sides at e'en, 
When flower-reviving rains are past--- 
An she has 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 has twa sparkling, rogueish een!

Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem, 
The pride of all the flowery scene, 
Just opening on its thorny stem--- 
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!

Her bosom's like the nightly snow, 
When pale the morning rises keen, 
While hid the murm'ring streamlets flow--- 
An she has 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 has twa sparkling, rogueish een!

Her teeth are like a flock of sheep, 
With fleeces newly washen clean, 
That slowly mount the rising steep--- 
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!

Her breath is like the fragrant breeze, 
That gently stirs the blossom'd bean, 
When Phoebus sinks behind the seas--- 
An she has 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 has twa sparkling, rogueish een!

But it's not her air, her form, her face, 
Tho matching Beauty's fabled Queen: 
'Tis the mind that shines in ev'ry grace--- 
An chiefly in her rogueish een!

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