O' a' the num'rous human dools, The tricks o' knaves, or fash o' fools, Where'er that place be priests ca' hell, Thou, TOOTH-ACHE surely bear'st the bell O thou grim mischief-making chiel, That gars the notes of discord squeel, "Till daft mankind aft dance a reel In gore a shoe-thick ; Gie a' the faes o' SCOTLAND's weal A towmond's Tooth-Ache! ON SONG. Tune- MORAG.' O WHA is she that lo'es me, CHORUS. O that's the lassie o' my heart, O that's the queen o' woman kind, And ne'er a ane to peer her. If thou shalt meet a lassie, In grace and beauty charming, Ere while thy breast sae warming, If thou hadst heard her talking. But her by thee is slighted; If thou hast met this fair one; If every other fair one, But her thou hast deserted, And thou art broken hearted. O that's the lassie o my heart, O that's the queen o' woman kind, SONG. SONG. JOCKEY's ta'en the parting kiss, Nought but griefs with me remain. Spare my luve ye winds that blaw, Plashy sleets and beating rain! Spare my luve thou feathery snaw, When the shades of evening creep He will think on her he loves, SONG. SONG. MY Peggy's face, my Peggy's form, The lily's hue, the rose's dye, The kindling lustre of an eye; Who but owns their magic sway, Who but knows they all decay! The tender thrill, the pitying tear, The generous purpose, nobly dear, The gentle look, that rage disarms, These are all immortal charms. Written |