I found this while working on another project. I don't have a tune for it, and I don't actually know that it's ever been sung. It seems like some clever person could fit it to a tune and thus save it from oblivion.

From Eliza Cook's Journal, Vol. 2, No. 27 (London: John Owen Clarke, Nov. 3, 1849), page 16:

SONG.

Come to my bosom, my bonnie wee thing;
Come in your beauty, like flower o' the spring;
Gentle an' lightsome, like bird i' the air,
Winsome an' gleesome, an' blooming sae fair
Come like the rainbow o'er-arching the sky;
Come like the sunshine to gladden mine eye;
Come to my arms, Jeannie, sweetest an' dearest;
Come to my heart, where thou'lt ever be nearest.

Come like the rose-bud, a' dripping wi' dew,
Wi' your breathing sae fresh and your spirit sae true,
Come like the summer stream, dancing in glee;
Come like the siller moon over the sea.
Oh, come frae the town, let us ramble together
Where laverocks build in the dark purple heather!
Come to my arms, Jeannie, sweetest an' dearest,
Come to the heart where thou'lt ever be nearest!

W. C.