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And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
And fondly sac did I o' mine. Wi’ lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree ; And my fause luver stole my rose,
But, ah! he left the thorn wi' me.
SIC A WIFE AS WILLIE HAD.
Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed,
The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie; Willie was a wabster gude,
Cou'd stown a clue wi' ony bodie;
Sic a wife as Willie had,
She has an e'e, she has but ane,
The cat has twa the very colour ;
A clapper tongue wad deave a miller;
Sic a wife, &c.
She's bow-hough’d, she's hein-shinn'd,
Ae limpin leg a hand-breed shorter ;
To balance fair in ilka quarter:
Sic a wife, &C.
Auld baudrans by the inglc sits,
An' wi' her loof her face a washins. But Willie's wife is nae sae trig;
She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion i
Her walie nieves like midden-creels,
Sic a wife as Willie had,
Ånce mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December!
Ance mair I hail thee wi' sorrow and care; Sad was the parting thou makes me remember,
Parting wi' Nancy, Oh! ne'er to meet mair. Fond lovers parting is sweet painful pleasure,
Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour; But the dire feeling, O farewell for ever,
Is anguish unminglid and agony pure.
Wild as the winter now tearing the forest,
'Till the last leaf o' the summer is flown, Such is the tempest has shaken my bosom,
Since my last hope and last comfort is gone; Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December,
Still shall I hail thee wi' sorrow and care; For sad was the parting thou makes me remember,
Parting wi' Naney, oh, ne'er to meet mair.
WILT THOU BE MY DEÀRIE.
Wilt thou be my dearie ?
When sorrow wrings thy gentle heart, O wilt thou let me cheer thee?
By the treasure of my soul, And that's the love I bear thee!
I swear and vow, that only thou
Only thou, I swear and vow,
Lassie, say thou lo'es me ;
Or if thou wilt na be my ain,
If it winna, canna be,
Let me, lassie, quickly die,
Lassie, let me quickly die,
SHE'S FAIR AND FAUSE.
She's fair and fause that causes my smart,
I lo'ed her meikle and lang;
And I may e'en gae hang.
Sae let the bonnie lass gang.
Whae'er ye be that woman love,
To this be never blind,
A woman has't by kind :
I mean an angel mind.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Thou slock-dove, whose echo resounds thro' the
glen, Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den, Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming for
bear, I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair.
How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills, Far mark'd with the courses of clear, winding
There daily I wander as noon rises high,
How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow! There oft as mild evening weeps over the lea, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green
braes, Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays; My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream,
The smiling spring comes in rejoicing,
And surly winter grimly flies;
And bonnie blue are the sunny skies ;
ing, The ev'ning gilds the ocean's swell ; All creatures joy in the sun's returning,
And I rejoice in my bonnie Bell.
The flow'ry spring leads sunny summer,
And yellow autumn presses near, Then in his turn comes gloomy winter,
'Till smiling spring again appear. Thus seasons dancing, life advancing,
Old time and nature their changes tell, But never ranging, still unchanging,
I adore my bonnie Bell.
THE GALLANT WEAVER.
Where Cart rins rowin to the sea,
He is a gallant weaver,
Oh I had wooers aught or nine,
And I gied it to the weaver.
My daddie sign'd my tocher-band
And give it to the weaver.
While birds rejoice in leafy bowers ;
I'll love my gallant weaver*.
LOUIS WHAT RECK I BY THEE.
Louis, what reck I by thee,
Or Geordie on his ocean:
* In some editions sailor is substituted for beaver