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THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY.

Bonnie lassie, will ye go, will ye go, will ye go, Bonnie lassie, will ye go to the birks of Aberfeldy ?

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays,
Come let us spend the lightsome days,
In the birks of Aberfeldy,

Bonnie lassic, &c.

While o'er their heads the hazels hing,
The little birdies blythely sing,
Or lightly flit on wanton wing
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonnie lassie, dc.

The braes ascend like lofty wa's,
The foaming stream deep-roaring fa's,
O'er-hung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonnie lassie, doc.

The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers,
White o'er the linns the burnie pours,
And rising weets wi' misty showers
The birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonnie lassie, &c.

Let fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love and thee
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonnie lassie, &c.*

This is written in the same measure as the Birks of Abergeldie, an old Scottish song, from which nothing is borrowed but the chorus.

STAY, MY CHARMER, CAN YOU

LEAVE ME?

Tune, " An Gille dubh ciar dhubh.
Stay, my charmer, can you leave me?
Cruel, cruel, to deceive me!
Well you know how much you grieve me;

Cruel charmer, can you go!
Cruel charmer, can you go!

By my love so ill requited;
By the faith you fondly plighted;
By the pangs of lovers slighted ;

Do not, do not leave me so !
Do not, do not leave me so !

STRATHALLAN'S LAMENT.

Thickest night o'erhang my dwelling!

Howling tempests o'er me rave! Turbid torrents, wintry swelling,

Still surround my lonely cave!

Crystal streamlets gently flowing,

Busy haunts of base mankind, Western breezes softly blowing,

Suit not my distracted mind.

In the cause of right engaged,

Wrongs injurious to redress, Honour's war we strongly waged,

But the heavens deny'd success.

Ruin's wheel has driven o'er us,

Not a hope that dare attend, The wide world is all before us

But a world without a friend !*

* Strathallan, it is presumed, was one of the followers of the young chevalier, and is supposed to THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER.

Tune, Morag."

Loud blaw the frosty breezes,

The snaws the mountains cover; Like winter on me seizes,

Since my young highland rover

Far wanders nations over. Where'er he go, where'er he stray,

May heaven be his warden; Return him safe to fair Strathspey,

And bonnie Castle-Gordon !

The trees now naked groaning,

Shall soon wi' leaves be hinging, The birdies dowie moaning,

Shall a' be blythely singing,

And every flower be springing.
Sae I'll rejoice the lee-lang day,

When by his mighty warden
My youth's return'd to fair Strathspey,

And bonnie Castle-Gordon*.

RAVING WINDS AROUND HER BLOWING.

Tune,“ MʻGrigor of Rero's Lament.”

Raving winds around her blowing,
Yellow leaves the woodlands strowing,
By a river hoarsely roaring,
Isabella stray'd deploring.
“Farewell, hours that late did measure
Sunshine days of joy and pleasure ;

be lying concealed in some cave of the Highlands, after the battle of Culloden. This song was written before the year 1788.

E. * The young highland rover, is supposed to be the

young chevalier, Prince Charles-Edward. E.

Hail, thou gloomy night of sorrow,
Cheerless night that knows no morrow.

“O'er the past too fondly wandering,
On the hopeless future pondering;
Chilly grief my life-blood freezes,
Fell despair my fancy seizes.
Life, thou soul of every blessing,
Load to misery most distressing,
O how gladly I'd resign thee,
And to dark oblivion join thee* !"

MUSING ON THE ROARING OCEAN.

Tune, “ Druimion dubh."

Musing on the roaring ocean,

Which divides my love and me; Wearying heaven in warın devotion,

For his weal where'er he be.

Hope and fear's alternate billow

Yielding late to nature's law, Whisp'ring spirits round my pillow

Talk of him that's far awa.

Ye whom sorrow never wounded,

Ye who never shed a tear, Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded,

Gaudy day to you is dear.

Gentle night, do thou befriend me s

Downy sleep, the curtain draw; Spirits kind, again attend me,

Talk of him that's far awa!

* The occasion on which this poem was written is unknown to the editor. It is an early composition.

E.

BLYTHE WAS SHE.

Blythe, blythe and merry was she,

Blythe was she but and ben : Blythe by the banks of Ern,

And blythe in Glenturit glen.

By Oughtertyre grows the aik,

On Yarrow banks, the birken shaw;
But Phemie was a bonnier lass
Than braes o’ Yarrow ever saw.

Blythe, bc.

Her looks were like a flow'r in May

Her smile was like a simmer morn;
She tripped by the banks of Ern,
As light's a bird upon a thorn.

Blythe, 6c.

Her bonnie face it was as meek

As ony lamb upon a lee;
The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet
As was the blink o' Phemie's e'e.

Blythe, c.

The Highland hills I've wander'd wide,

And o'er the Lowlands I hae been; But Phemie was the blythest lass That ever trode the dewy green.

Blythe, bc.

A ROSE-BUD BY MY EARLY WALK.

A rose-bud by my early walk,
Adown a corn-inclosed bawk,
Sae gently bent its thorny stalk,

All on a dewy morning.

Ere twice the shades o' dawn are ded,
In a' its crimson glory spread,

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