From Calliope: or, the musical miscellany, pp28-9, 1788.

listen to the tune (midi file)

THE FLOWERS OF EDINBURGH.

 My love was once a bonny lad, 
 He was the flow'r of all his kin,
 The absense of his bonny face,
 Has rent my tender heart in twain.
 I day nor night find no delight,
 In silent tears I still complain,
 And exclaim' gainst these my rival foes.
 That hae ta'en from me my darling swain.
 
 Despair and anguish fills my breast,
 Since I have lost my blooming rose;
 I sigh and moan while others rest,
 His absence yields me no repose.
 To seek my love I'll range and rove,
 Thro' ev'ry grove and distant plain;
 Thus I'll ne'er cease, but spend my days,
 T' hear tidings from my darling swain. 
 
 There's nothing strange in nature's charge,
 Since parents shew such cruelty;
 They caus'd my love from me to range,
 And knows not to what destiny.
 The pretty kids and tender lambs
 May cease to sport upon the plain;
 But I'll mourn and lament, in deep discontent,
 For the absence of my darling swain.
 
 Kind Neptune, let me thee intreat,
 To send a fair and pleasant gale;
 Ye dolphins sweet, upon me wait,
 And do convey me on your tail.
 Heav'ns bless my voyage with success,
 While crossing of the raging main,
 And send me safe o'er to that distant shore,
 To meet my lovely darling swain. 
 
 All joy and mirth at our return
 Shall then abound from Tweed to Tay;
 The bells shall ring, and sweet birds sing,
 To grace and crown our nuptial day.
 Thus bless'd with charms in my love's arms,
 My heart once more I will regain,
 Then I'll range no more to a distant shore,
 But in love will enjoy my darling swain.