The sun has gane down o'er the lofty Benlomond, And left the red
clouds to preside o'er the scene, While lanely I
stray, in the calm simmer gloamin', To muse on sweet
Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane. How sweet is the
brier wi' its saft faulding blossom, And sweet is the
birk, wi' its mantle o'green; Yet sweeter, and
fairer, and dear to this bosom, Is lovely young
Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane.