O W Y Wh I Y T（1 / 1）

o wat ye wha&039;s yon town

tune—“i&039;ll gang nae air to yon toun”

chor—o wat ye wha&039;s yon town,

ye see the e&039;en sun upon,

the dearest aid&039;s yon town,

that e&039;eng sun is shg on

now haply down yon gay green shaw,

she wanders by yon spreadg tree;

how blest ye flowers that round her bw,

ye catch the gnces o&039; her e&039;e!

o wat ye wha&039;s, c

how blest ye birds that round her sg,

and wele the bloog year;

and doubly wele be the sprg,

the sean to y jeanie dear

o wat ye wha&039;s, c

the sun blks blythe on yon town,

aong the brooy braes sae green;

but y delight yon town,

and dearest pleasure, is y jean

o wat ye wha&039;s, c

without y fair, not a&039; the chars

o&039; paradise uld yield joy;

but give jeanie y ars

and wele pnd&039;s dreary sky!

o wat ye wha&039;s, c

y cave wad be a lover&039;s bower,

tho&039; ragg ter rent the air;

and she a lovely little flower,

that i wad tent and shelter there

o wat ye wha&039;s, c

o sweet is she yon town,

the sk, sun&039;s gane down upon;

a fairer than&039;s yon town,

his settg bea ne&039;er shone upon

o wat ye wha&039;s, c

if angry fate is sworn y foe,

and suff&039;rg i a doo&039;d to bear;

i careless it aught else below,

but spare, o spare jeanie dear

o wat ye wha&039;s, c

for while life&039;s dearest blood is war,

ae thought frae her shall ne&039;er depart,

and she, as fairest is her for,

she has the truest, kdest heart

o wat ye wha&039;s, c