Robert Crawford (Scottish poet, died 1733)

"Come, let us go forth to the mead, Let us see how the primroses spring; We’ll lodge in some village on Tweed, And love while the feather’d folk sing."

"When trees did bud and fields were green, And broom bloom’d fair to see, When Mary was complete fifteen, And love laugh’d in her ee, Blythe Davie’s blinks her heart did move To speak her mind thus free: Gang doun the burn, Davie love, An’ I will follow thee."