From The Pocket Encyclopedia of Scottish, English, and Irish Songs, Vol. 1, (Glasgow: Andrew & James Duncan, 1816), page 243:


THE BUSH ABOON TRAQUAIR.

Hear me, ye nymphs, and ev'ry swain,
I'll tell how Peggy grieves me;
Tho' thus I languish and complain,
Alas! she ne'er believes me.
My vows and sighs, like silent air,
Unheeded, never move her;
The bonnie bush aboon Traquair,
Was where I first did love her.

That day she smil'd, and made me glad,
No maid seem'd ever kinder;
I thought myself the luckiest lad,
So sweetly there to find her.
I try'd to soothe my am'rous flame,
In words that I thought tender:
If more there pass'd, I'm not to blame;
I meant not to offend her.

Yet now she scornful flies the plain,
The fields we then frequented;
If e'er we meet, she shows disdain,
She looks as ne'er acquainted.
The bonnie bush bloom'd fair in May;
Its sweets I'll aye remember:
But now her frowns make it decay;
It fades as in December.

Ye rural pow'rs, who hear my strains,
Why thus should Peggy grieve me?
Oh! make her partner in my pains;
Then let her smiles relieve me.
If not, my love will turn despair;
My passion no more tender;
I'll leave the bush aboon Traquair;
To lonely wilds I'll wander.

When Burns visited this far-famed Bush in 1787, it consisted of eight or nine ragged birches. The Earl of Traquair has planted a clump of trees near it, which he calls the New Bush.

[An arrangement for voice and piano can be found in The Popular Songs of Scotland with Their Appropriate Melodies by George Farquhar Graham (Glasgow: J. Muir Wood & Co., 1887), page 44.]