The Spring comes linking and jinking through the woods,
Opening wiâ€™ gentle hand the bonnie green and yellow budsâ€”
Thereâ€™s flowers and showers, and sweet sang aâ€™ little bird,
And the gowan wiâ€™ his red croon peeping throâ€™ the yird.
The hail comes rattling and brattling snell anâ€™ keen,
Dauding and blauding, though red set the sun at eâ€™en;
In bonnet and wee loof the weans kep and look for mair,
Dancing throâ€™ther wiâ€™ the white pearls shining in their hair.
We meet wiâ€™ blythesome anâ€™ kythesome cheerie weans,
Daffing and laughing far a-doon the leafy lanes,
Wiâ€™ gowans and buttercups busking the thorny wands,
Sweetly singing wiâ€™ the flower branch waving in their hands.
â€™Boon aâ€™ thatâ€™s in thee, to win me, sunny Spring!
Bricht cluds and green buds, and sangs that the birdies sing;
Flower-dappled hill-side and dewy beech sae fresh at eâ€™en;
Or the tappie-toorie fir-tree shining aâ€™ in green â€”
Bairnies, bring treasure and pleasure mair to me,