The Lass o’ Ballochmyle
’Twas even—the dewy fields were green,On every blade the pearls hang;The zephyr wanton’d round the bean,And bore its fragrant sweets alang:In ev’ry glen the mavis sang,All nature list’ning seem’d the while,Except where greenwood echoes rang,Amang the braes o’ Ballochmyle.
With careless step I onward stray’d,My heart rejoic’d in nature’s joy,When, musing in a lonely glade,A maiden fair I chanc’d to spy:Her look was like the morning’s eye,Her air like nature’s vernal smile:Perfection whisper’d, passing by,“Behold the lass o’ Ballochmyle!”
Fair is the morn in flowery May,And sweet is night in autumn mild;When roving thro’ the garden gay,Or wand’ring in the lonely wild:But woman, nature’s darling child!There all her charms she does compile;Even there her other works are foil’dBy the bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle.
O, had she been a country maid,And I the happy country swain,Tho’ shelter’d in the lowest shedThat ever rose on Scotland’s plain!Thro’ weary winter’s wind and rain,With joy, with rapture, I would toil;And nightly to my bosom strainThe bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle.
Then pride might climb the slipp’ry steep,Where frame and honours lofty shine;And thirst of gold might tempt the deep,Or downward seek the Indian mine:Give me the cot below the pine,To tend the flocks or till the soil;And ev’ry day have joys divineWith the bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle.
Words in this poem
- zephyr n.
- The west wind; poetically, any soft, gentle breeze. [L. zephyrus, Gr. zéphyr.]
- mavis n.
- The European throstle or song thrush (Turdus musicus). [F. mauvis, Arm. milvid, milfid, milc'hhouid, Corn. melhuez.]
- greenwood n.
- A forest as it appears is spring and summer.
- glade n.
- An open passage through a wood; a grassy open or cleared space in a forest. [Prob. of Scand. origin, and akin to glad, a.; cf. also W. golead, goleuad, a lighting, illumination, fr. goleu light, clear, bright, goleu fwlch glade, lit., a ]
- lass n.
- A youth woman; a girl; a sweetheart. [OE. lasse; prob. of Celtic origin; cf. W. llodes girl, fem. of llawd lad. (Lad a youth.]
- morn n.
- The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
- compile v. t.
- To put together; to construct; to build. [F. compiler, fr.L. compilare to plunder, pillage; com- + pilare to plunder. See Pill, v. t., Pillage.]
- nightly a.
- Of or pertaining to the night, or to every night; happening or done by night, or every night; as, nightly shades; he kept nightly vigils.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Lass o’ Ballochmyle is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems and Songs of Robert Burns, Project Gutenberg ebook #1279; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Robert Burns, The Lass o’ Ballochmyle, in Poems and Songs (1786–1796), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #1279, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/burns-poems/the-lass-o-ballochmyle.html, id L03037.
Form and metre
The Lass o’ Ballochmyle is 40 lines in 5 stanzas of 8 lines each. The metre is iambic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 95%). 97% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.2 syllables. 10% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in iambic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABABBCBC greenA · hangB · beanA · alangB · sangB · whileC · rangB · ballochmyleC
- 2 A-ABBCBC stray'dA · joy · gladeA · spyB · eyeB · smileC · byB · ballochmyleC
- 3 ABABBC-C mayA · mildB · gayA · wildB · childB · compileC · foil'd · ballochmyleC
- 4 -A-AA-A- maid · swainA · shed · plainA · rainA · toil · strainA · ballochmyle
- 5 ABABB-B- steepA · shineB · deepA · mineB · pineB · soil · divineB · ballochmyle
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| ’Twas even—the dewy fields were green, | 8 | ·/·/˘··· |
| On every blade the pearls hang; | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| The zephyr wanton’d round the bean, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And bore its fragrant sweets alang: | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| In ev’ry glen the mavis sang, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| All nature list’ning seem’d the while, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Except where greenwood echoes rang, | 8 | ···/·/˘· |
| Amang the braes o’ Ballochmyle. | 9 | ········· |
| With careless step I onward stray’d, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| My heart rejoic’d in nature’s joy, | 8 | ··˘/·/˘· |
| When, musing in a lonely glade, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| A maiden fair I chanc’d to spy: | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Her look was like the morning’s eye, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Her air like nature’s vernal smile: | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Perfection whisper’d, passing by, | 8 | ˘/˘/˘/˘· |
| “Behold the lass o’ Ballochmyle!” | 9 | ˘/······· |
| Fair is the morn in flowery May, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And sweet is night in autumn mild; | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| When roving thro’ the garden gay, | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Or wand’ring in the lonely wild: | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| But woman, nature’s darling child! | 8 | ·/˘/˘/˘· |
| There all her charms she does compile; | 8 | ······˘/ |
| Even there her other works are foil’d | 8 | /··/˘··· |
| By the bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle. | 10 | ·········· |
| O, had she been a country maid, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And I the happy country swain, | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| Tho’ shelter’d in the lowest shed | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| That ever rose on Scotland’s plain! | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| Thro’ weary winter’s wind and rain, | 8 | ·/˘/˘··· |
| With joy, with rapture, I would toil; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| And nightly to my bosom strain | 8 | ·/˘··/˘· |
| The bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle. | 9 | ········· |
| Then pride might climb the slipp’ry steep, | 8 | ········ |
| Where frame and honours lofty shine; | 8 | ···/˘/˘· |
| And thirst of gold might tempt the deep, | 8 | ········ |
| Or downward seek the Indian mine: | 8 | ·/··/˘˘· |
| Give me the cot below the pine, | 8 | ········ |
| To tend the flocks or till the soil; | 8 | ········ |
| And ev’ry day have joys divine | 8 | ······˘/ |
| With the bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle. | 10 | ·········· |
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