Glass. Book THE ROSE, SHAMROCK, AND THISTLE SONG BOOK. -i& / THE SONGS OF THE OLD COUNTRY FOE THE PEOPLE OF THE COLONIES, " Songs of our land, ye are with us for ever ; The power and the splendour of thrones pass away, But yours is the might of some far flowing river, Through summer's bright roses, or autumn's decay.' u And when the final sigh, Earth's latest thought shall be, Shall bear my soul on high, As I soar above the sea — And on ehainless wing I fly • Green Erin, dear, to thee — Through the blue ; Adieu ! ' " " sing to me the auld Scotch sangs, I' the braid Scottish tongue ; The sangs my faither wished to hear, The sangs my mither sung." NEW YORK: SOLOMON, LYONS & COMPANY. '262867 19 CONTENTS Page Adieu to Innisfail, ... .... 9 Adieu! — the snowy sail, 9 A life on the ocean wave, 12 Annie o' the banks o' Dee, 14 All things love thee, so do I, 15 Ah! why did I gather this delicate flower? ... 19 Alice Gray, 19 All's well, 20 Ah! sure a pair was never seen, 21 An Englishman am I, 25 A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 27 Afloat on the ocean, 28 A sailor's love, 32 Auld Robin Gray, 35 A rosebud by my early walk, 43 A famous man was Eobin Hood, 43 Afton water, 46 Auld langsyne, 47 Ae fond kiss and then we sever, 50 Auld Eob Morris, 50 Awa' wi' your witchcraft o' beauty's alarms, ... 52 A wee bird cam' to oor ha' door, 57 Awa', "Whigs, awa', 58 A cheerful song, C9 A cheer for the workers, 69 All's for the best, 72 ADgry words are lightly spoken, 77 All together again, 79 A guid New Year to ane an' a', 79 A man's a man for a' that, 80 Annie Laurie, SO A' body's like to be married but me, 81 As a beam o'er the face of the waters, S7 At sixteen years old you could get little good of me, 88 Aileen Mavourneen, 89 Answer to Kate Kearney, 97 A sweet Irish girl is the darling for me, ... 9S A girl, a bumper, and a friend, 127 A sup of good whisky, 131 Ally Croaker, 131 At the side of the road, near the bridge of Drum- condra, 139 Allister MAllister, 14S Ah ! would it were my humble lot, 149 Answer to the unco bit want ... 151 Am I right — or any other man? 175 As I was lumb'ring down the street, 180 A life by the galley fire 180 A nigger young am I. an' quite de ladies' man, 1-1 A little old woman her living she got 182 At the age of seventeen, when I wanted a wife, ls3 A belle and beau would walking go, 1S9 Aunt Sally, 192 By the sad sea waves, 14 Bright, bright are the beams of the uJorning sky, 20 Britannia, regardless of traitors and foes, ... 24 Britannia's name from age to age, L'5 Blow high, blow low. 3> Bessy, the sailor's bride, 32 Black-eyed Susan, 33 Blue bonnets over the border, S7 Bonnie Prince Charlie, 33 Bonnie Dundee, 40 Blithe was she, 44 ■Bonnie Charlie's noo awa', 46 Bonnie lassie, will ye go? 47 Braw lads o' Gala water, 4S Bonnie Jean 53 Bonnie wee thing, .• ... 53 Bonnie Lesley, 55 Blythe hae I been on yon hill, 55 Bruce's address, ,~ 59 Pngfl Bannocks o" bear meal, BJ Bounie Charlie, 61 Beautiful star, 7<) Be kind to the loved oues at homo, 70 Bide ye yet, 73 Believe me, if all those endearing' young charms, S9 By the clear lakes of Killarney, 93 Bonnie wood of Craigie Lea, 1<>0 Biddy Magee, 1 >3 Billy O'Bourke, i<« Barney Brallaghan's courtship, llu Barney O'Hea,, 115 Be a good boy and take care of yourself, ... 123 Bishop M'Cue and the pedlar, 132 Ballynahinch, !'•> Bryan O'Lynn, lu Biddy, the basket woman, I3S By the big hill of Howth, 141 Beautiful Biddy of Sligo 142 Barrochan Jean, VA Bess the gawkie 17 Bailie Nicol Jarvie's journey to Aberfoil, ... 165 Behave yoursel' before folk, 1C9 Blvthe. blythe around the nappy 170 Billy Pattison, 170 Buffalo gals, 1*>> Beef, pork, mutton, will you buy? lftfl Bachelor's fare, 192 Cease, rude Boreas, blustering railor, 29 Come, sit thee down, 31 Come under my plaidio, :>7 Cam' ye by Athol, lad wi' the philabeg ? ... ?,$ Cauld kail in Aberdeen, 43 Can' st thou leave me thus, my Katy? 5 1 Craigieburn wood 55 Come o'er the stream, Charlie, 56 Charlie is my darling, 59 Come boat me o'er to Charlie, C,'.) CallumO'Glen 61 Charlie, ye are welcome, 63 Carle, an' the king come, 63 Contented wi' little, 74 Castles in the air, 7r» Cheer, boys, cheer, 82 Colleen Bawn, US Canadian boat song 93 Come to Ireland now, my boys, 113 Corporal Casey, 1)5 Carry me back to old Virginny, 177— Come, listen, eb'ry nigger, IS) Commence, ye darkies all, 151 Coloured fancy ball, l;jj Drink to me only with thine eyes, ... ... 11 Dream on, young hearts, 17 Down the burn, Davie, :w; Duncan Gray, 37 Dainty Davie, 44 Derwentwater's farewell, 5-> Drummossie Muir, G8 Do they miss me at home? 70 Dear harp of my country, in daixness I found thee §B Dermot astore, ;*l Dublin Bay, Vi, Draw the sword, Scotland, ... lm Denis Delaney, ... ' 123 DiggiDg for goold, 134 Doctor O'Toole, 135 Dear praties, we can't do wiihcv.t them, ... 146 Darby Kelly, 146 Dinah Crow, Wi 4 CONTENTS. Page De queerest chap I eber see, ... 174 De old wood pile, 174 De dandy Broadway swell, 175 Down in de cane-brake, close by de mill, ... 178 Dixey'sland, 178 De big white moon am shinin', lub, 179 Don't mind Steben, 179 Dandy Jim from Caroline, 179 Dearest May, " 1*0 Dere's some one in the house wid Dinah, ... 181 Dame Durden, 188 Do cease your clack and hold your tongue, ... 188 England! Europe's glory, 10 England! dear England! IS Ever of thee I'm fondly dreaming, 21 Every inch a sailor, ... 32 Each whirl of the wheel, 79 Eilv Mavourneen, ... 94 Erin! Erin! 98 Each pretty young miss, with a long heavy purse, 111 Far, far upon the sea, 25 For England, when, with fav'ring gale, S3 First when Maggie was my care, 38 Fee him, father, fee him, 43 From thee, Eliza, I must go, 49 Farewell to pleasant Dilston Hall, 58 Far over yon hills of the heather so green, ... 60 Fare thee well, Kitty dear, 6S Farewell to Lochaber, 73 Forgive and forget, 76 Farewell, but whenever you welcome the hour, 84 Forget not your Kathleen, 91 Fair of Cloghecn 107 Father Macshane, 117 Father O'Neal, 135 Fye, let us a' to the bridal 155 Funny and free are a bachelor's revelries, ... 192 For me life 'as no pleasure, 192 Gallant Tom, 32 Gin a body meet a body, 38 Gloomy winter's noo awa', 40 Green grow the rashes, O! 4.1 Gentle Hallie, . 67 Gentle Annie, . 73 Go where glory waits thee, S6 Grandfather Brian, 114 Groves of Blarney, 140 Get up and bar the door, 149 Giles Scroggins 190 Hey, bonnie lassie, blink over the burn, ... 101 Hurrah for the land of the brave, 11 Hurrah for merry England, 22 Hearts of oak, 26 Hurrah! I'm off to sea, 27 Heaving the lead, 33 Hark! the boatswain hoarsely bawling, ... 34 Highland Mary, 48 How can I be blythe and glad? 50 Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear, 50 Hey for a lass wi' a tocher, 52 How lang and dreary is the night, 54 Hey, the dusty miller, 54 He's ower the hills that I lo'e weel, 59 Hame, hame, hame, 62 Hurrah for the bonnets of blue, 04 Heroes, 70 Hard times come again no more, 72 Home again 77 Here's a health to all good lasses, 81 Hearts and homes, 81 Home, sweet home, S3 Hurrah for the Emerald Isle, 95 Had I a heart for falsehood framed, 97 Had I in the clear, 139 Hey! Jenny, come down to Jock, 100 Her nainsel' come frae ta Hielan' hill, id Hersel' be aughty eirs an' twa, 162 Hijrhlan' sobriety, i65 Highland politicians, 165 Her nainsel be te tecent lad, 166 Her nainsel tuked amang her head, 166 Haud awa' frae me, Donald ... 167 Page Hersel' be Highland gentleman, los Hey for a wife wi' a hunner or twa, ms Heather Jock, 170 How are you, white folks, one and all, 171 Happy are we, darkies so gay 170 Hot codlings, 182 How I wish my wife would not practice all day, 186 I'm afloat! I'm afloat! 12 I'll hang my harp on a willow tree, 13 In the days when we went gipsying, 13 I love the merry sunshine. ... " 14 It may not be, it cannot be, 14 I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls, 16 Is there a heart that never loved;' 18 I love but thee, id I think on thee, when the waveless sea, ... l!) I've been true to thee, 21 I will think of my love in the moonlight, ... 28 It blew great guus, it blew great guns 32 I have oftentimes thought it a wondersome thing 33 I lo'e the hills of Scotland, 4j I'm ower young to marry yet, 45 I hae a wife 0' my ain, 48 I winna' let you iu, jo, 51 I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane, 51 I may sit in my wee croo-house, 56 It was a' for our rightfu' king, (il It's here awa', there awa", how they did rin, ... 61 I've wandered here, I've wandered there, ... 68 I sing of heroes, old and young, 70 I wish somebody'd come, 71 I'm turning grey, dear Kate, 77 I'm thinking of home, 77 It was upon a Lammas night, 80 Ilka blade 0' grass keps its ain drap o dew, ... 80 I give thee all, I can no more no I'd mourn the hopes that leave me, 97 I hae laid a herring in saur, 99 I neither gat, 99 I'm not myself at all, U3 I'm a ranting, roving blade, 116 In Derry-down Dale, when I wanted a mate, ... 116 I'm a joiner by trade, and O'Chisel's my name, 116 I am the lad can do the trick, IIS Irish jaunting car, 120 Irish blunders, 121 I'm bother'd from head to the tail, 123 I've lately returned from the ocean, 126 ' was the boy for bewitching them, 130 i have sung very often to satisfy you, 132 In this wonderful age, wheu most men go to college, 135 If ever you go to London town, 133 Irh-h hearts for the ladies 140 Irish courtship, 143 If you'd travel the wide world all over, ... lij la Lunnin there's plenty of a' things that's dainty, 150 I hae lost my love, 161 I lub to mad distraction, 173 I come from Alabama, wid my banjo on my knee, 174 I work on board a floating scow, 177 I come from South Carolina, 178 I wish I was in the land of cotton, 178 I've often heard it said of late 179 I've just dropped in to see you all, 1*1 I'm ninety-five, 184 I've just arrived across the sea, 19i) I'm a broken-down coachman, and the last on the road, 191 Joe, the marine, 24 Jack Ratlin, 34 Jock o' Hazeldean, 89 Jessie, the flower o' Dunblane, 40 Jockey's ta'en the parting kiss, 49 Johnnie Cope, 62 John Anderson, my jo, 74 Jessie, 96 Jeanie Morrison, 99 Juggy Delany, 141 Jenny's bawbee, 147 Jockey said to Jenny, 149 CONTENTS. Page John Grmnlie, . 1-50 John Maut, 153 Jenny dang the weaver, 155 John M'Nab's opinion of the march of intellect, 162 Jasper Jock, 1"1 Jim Brown, 174 Johnny Brock from Chickalaw, 175 Johnny Sands, 185 Kelvin Grove, 42 Kind Bobin lo*es me 44 Kenmure*s on and awa', 60 Kiss, but never tell, 63 Kathleen Mavourneen, 85 Katty, my darling, 90 KateKearney, 90 Kathleen O'More, 90 Kitty of Coleraine, 92 Katty' s letter, 94 Kill or cure, lt*2 Katty Darling (a Parody), 103 Katty, avourneen 105 Kill Patrick of Tally Muckle's Creig 112 Katty Moonev 112 Kate JPClusky, 1*9 Kitty Tyrrell 129 Kathleen OBegan, the pride of Athy, 140 Kate Dalrymple, 150 Katey of Lochgoil, 163 King Arthur, 186 Live and let live 12 Love not! love not! 3-e hapless sons of clay, ... 13 Love thee, dearest, love thee ? 14 Let us speak of a man as we find him, 14 Lilla's a lady, 19 Lightly we bound o'er the foaming waves, ... 2-3 Lovely Nan, 34 Loudon's bonnie woods and braes, S9 Last May a braw wooer, 45 Lassie wi' the lint-white locks, 50 Logan water, 52 Lewie Gordon, 57 Loons, j - e maun gae harue 61 Lochiel, Lochiel, my brave Lochiel, (!4 Laughing Jennie, 68 Little Daisy, 75 Little Bennie 78 Long, long ago, 82 Love's young dream, ^6 Let Erin remember the days of old 97 Like the bright lamp that lay in Kildare's holy fane, 98 Lass, gin ye lo'e me, tell me now, 99 Low down in the broom, lol Limerick races, 103 Long Barney, 114 Looney Mactwolter, 119 Larry O'Biian, 126 Larry O'Gaff, 128 Larry Cafooslem, 130 Lucy Long, 173 Long tail blue, 181 Life of a clown, 1S3 My Mary ban, 'tis nearly dawn, 9 My heart with love is beating, 15 My native land, adieu ! 19 Man the life-boat, 30 My Nannie, O ! 36 March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale. 37 ' My love is like the red, red rose, 40 My love she's but a lassie yet, 41 Marry for love and work for siller, 44 Meg o' the mill, 43 My wife's a winsome wee thing, 49 My Nannie's awa", 50 My spouse, Nancy, 53 My ain kind dearie, O, 55 My daddy had a riding mare, 60 My Harry was a gallant gay, 64 My own, my gentle mother, 75 My cottage home, 76 My dear, my native home, 7S My pretty Jane! my dearest Jane! 81 Holly Bawn, 89 Papre My heart and lute, .•» «-a 9'J My lore, still I think tiiio I see her once more, 90 Minona ashtore, 91 Mar3', I believed thee true, 92 March to the battlefield, 97 My daddy is a cankert carle, lol Mulrooney's my name, 103 Mister Barney, ... , 1**5 Mr Ilooney's travels, 109 Miss Molly O'Bigge Ill My Judy's black eyes, 114 Molly Doolan, 114 Molly Carey, 124 Mu phy Delaney, 1-3 Mickey Free's lament, 13* Murrough O'Monaghan, 139 Molly Malone 141 Margery Grinder, 141 Maggie Lauder, 146 Mv niither men't my auld breeks, 143 Muirland Willie, 149 My heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie, 157 Medley No. 1, 153 My praw ponny lads, I will 6hust tell yon what, 163 My father wad hae me to marry the miller, ... 1 "1 Miss Nancy Teaze 171 Miss Lilla was a charming gal, 176 My ole dad, 176 Mamma won't let me marry, 1*7 Jlr and Mrs Clackett, lvS Mistress Bubb was gay and free 189 Never forget the dear ones, 73 New friends — true friends, 73 Nora Creina, 83 Norah, the pride of Kildare, 89 Norah, darling, don't believe them, 9-5 Norah Machree, 95 Nothing at all 116 Nainsel' frae the Highlands she cam', 164 Neil Gow's fareweel to whisky, l^t Nigga Jack ob Tennessee. 174 Nancy Til), 17rf Now, what I'm going to sing about, 1-4 Number one, ... ... 1*4 Never was there known a such, ISs OldTowler, Oh! the sons of merry, merry England, Old England, the mariner's glory, On the midnight ocean slumbering Of a' the airts the win' can blaw, Oh, why left I my hame ? O whistle an' I'll come to you, my lad, Oh, where, tell me where O dinna ask me gin I lo'e ye O! Jeanie, there's naething to fear ye O! my lassie, our joy to complete again, O, are ye sleepin', Maggie? Oh, wat ye wha's in yon toun? O for ane-and-twenty, Tarn. O this is no my ain lassie, O let me in this ae night, Oh. wha is she that loe's me ? O, Tibbie, I ha'e seen the day, Oh, poortith cauld, and restless love, Oh, gin my love were yon red rose, O welcome, Charlie, owre the main O this is no my ain hoose, Over the sea O wha's for Scotland and Charlie. O where shall I gae seek my bread, Oh! he's been lang o' comin', Once upon a time, Oh ! how I love my mountain home, One cheering word Our good old friends, Oh! whisper what thou feelest Oh! steer my bark to Erin's isle, Oh ! the land of sweet Erin's the land of delight, O, lady fair, O'er the hills, Bessie, Oh! gin I were a baron's heir, Oh ! I went to school to Darby Tool, One bottle more, Oh I is that what you mean ? n 5:1 'ZL 35 3« 41 4L 43 4* 43 45 46 4" 43 51 51 56 58 60 62 65 71 76 Ti! 78 y.i 83 35 91 !>» 1 ..1) 1'i J(H 137 CONTENTS. Page O gin I were but married, .. ,. .. .. 159 O will you hae ta tartan plaid? 1C7 On! British folks, I'se jest arrived, .. .. 171 Ole Jasper Jack was as sharp as a flint, .. 171 Ole Bull and ole Dan Tucker 172 Oh! Dandv Jim am sung to death, .. .. 17G Old Bob Ridley, 177 0, de big white moon am shinin\ love ! . . . . 179 Oh, lor! gals, you hear talk of Stebe, .. . . 179 On a Suskehannah raft I cum up de bay, .. 179 Oh, take dat coou you gabe me, lub, . . . . 180 Ole Jos sat at the garden gate 1S1 Oh! what enchanting pleasure, 183 Old King Crow, 1S4 Pull away, jolly boys, 30 Poortith cauld, .. 52 Prince Charles and Flora Macdonald's welcome to Skye, 53 Prince Charles's farewell to Flora, .. .. 61 Prince Charles's lament, 64 Pat's leather breeches, 106 Paddy on the railway, 106 Pat and the priest, .. 107 Paddy in London, .. .. 10S Paddy's wedding, £ .. .. 113 Paddy Carey, 117 Paddv's pastoral rhapsody, 117 Paddy O'Blarney, 118 Paddy's burying, .. .. 120 Phelim O'Durphy, 122 Paddy O'Eafferty's wedding, 121 Paddy the piper 12-1 Paddy Whack of Ballyback, .. .'. .. 126 Purty Molly Bralaghan, 127 Pat M'Garadie's 130 Parody on You'll remember me, 135 Paddy Shannon, 140 Paddy Blake's echo 144 Paddy's trip to the harvest, 145 Possum up a gum tree, 182 Queen of merry English hearts, 20 Rule, Britannia, 10 Robin is my only jo, 44 Rattlin', roarin' Willie, 51 Rise ! rise 1 lowland and highland men, . . G6 Rosabel, the lily of the lea, .. . .. 67 Rich and rare were the gems she wore, .. 89 RoryO'More, 94 She wore a wreath of roses, 16 She never blamed him. never, 20 She is thine, the word is spoken, 20 Stand to your guns, 23 Sweet is the ship that under sail, .. .. 34 Scotland yet, 34 Somebody, 41 Saw ye Johnnie comin', quo' she, .. .. 43 Should auld acquaintance be forgot? .. .. 47 She is a winsome wee thing, 49 She's fair and fause, 53 Stay, my Willie — yet believe me, 54 Somebody's courting somebod y 67 Say a kind word when you can, 73 Sad news from home, 76 Savourna deelish, .. .. .. .. .. S4 She is far from the land S4 Sleep on, my Kathleen dear, 91 Saint Patrick was a gentleman, 118 Swate Molly Mogg, 125 Stoney Pocket's berrin', 131 Stoney Pocket's auction, 133 Stoney Pocket's ghost, lo3 St Patrick's birth-day, 143 Sequel to .V aggie Lauder, ]47 Sic a wife as Wi lie had, 154 Sawney Grant's adventures in Glasgow, .. 161 Sandy M'Nab 167 Sing hev lor a wife wi' a hunner or twa, .. 163 Barn's Sally 171 Sing, sing, ye darkies, sing, 173 Susanna don't you crj r , .. .. .. .. 174 Sweet Lilla Brown 176 So early in the morning, 176 Page South Carolina's a sultry clime, 176 Swiftly goes de oyster boat, 17s Sich a gettin' up stairs, 179 Stop dat knockin', 1^0 Said I unto myself, 182 The weods o' Dunmore, 101 The whistling thief, 1 '1 The Englishman, 10 There's a land that bears a world-known name, 10 The brave old oak, 11 To all you ladies now on land, 11 The bonnie English rose, II The days that are no more, 12 Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, . . 12 The anchor's weighed, .. 12 The cavalier, 14 The soldier's tear, 15 The ivy green, li The dream 16 The mistletoe bough, .. H 'Twas you, sir, li The assignation li Through the wood 17 The kiss, dear maid, .. .. .. .. 13 They have given thee to another, IS The gipsy girl, 18 They wiled me from my greenwood home, . . li Then the toast be dear woman .. .. .. W The chough and crow, 1 1 The men of merry England. 21 There's room enough for all, .. .. .. 21 The battle of the Baltic, 22 The death of Nelson 22 The fisherman's glee, 23 The red, white, and blue, -> The queen of the sea, W The battle and the breeze, 2 > To Britain's glorious walls of oak, .. .. 23 The Queen and the navy for ever. 24 The British man of war, .. .. .. .. 24 The victories of old England, .. .. .. 24 The return of the admiral, M The Arethusa, 26 The pilot 27 The Bay of Biscas', O ! II The sturdy pilots put to sea, 2 7 The minute gun at sea, 2-i The boy in blue, 2i The sailor boy's dream, ti The sailor boy, 2 J The sea! th3 sea! the open sea! 2* Thestorm Tom Bowling, -'••) The harbour bar, 29 Three fishers went sailing out into the wett, . . 29 The white squall, The jackets of blue, The lads are all singing, 86 Tack and half-tack, 31 The true English sailor, ;;l The shipwreck, The standing toast, '■'- 'Twas in the good ship Rover, .. .. .. '■'■■> The best bower-anchor, '■'•■' There was a lad was born in Kyle, .. .. 8-1 The boatie rows, '■'•'< The march of the Cameron men, -"7 The Scottish blue bells, The laird o' Cockpeu. The flowers of the forest, 3:> Though you leave me now in sorrow, .. .. ^o The lea rig, I- The jolly beggar, 42 There grew in bonnie Scotland 4 1 To Mary in Heaven The birks of Aberfeldy, 47 The exciseman, 47 There's a youth in this city, •"' ' The gallant weaver, M There was a lass, and she was fair, . . .. SS The braes o' Ballochmyle, M Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, . . . . . . "4 'Twas na her bonnie blue e'e was my ruin, . . M The hundred pipers, ' r >6 The bonnio house o' Airlie, 57 CONTENTS. Page The Athole gathering, 57 There are twa bonnie maidens and three bonnie maidens, 58 The standard on the braes o' Mar, .. .. 59 There grows a bonnie brier bush, .. .. 59 The gallant Montrose, 60 The lament of Flora Macdonald, CO The riding mare, 60 The voice of the spirit of tempest is near, love, 61 There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame, 61 The braes o' Killiecrankie, 62 Tie lovely lass o' Inverness, .. .. .. 63 The Chevalier's muster roll. fi3 The sun rises bright in France, 63 The Chevalier's lament, .. .. .. .. 63 The storm is raging o'er the Kyle, . . . . 64 The fate of Charlie, 64 The gathering of the clans, 64 The waes of Scotland, 65 The heath cock, 66 The Jacobite's pledge, 67 The sun has set in the west, 67 The flowers of May 68 The cotter's farewell, 69 The fond hearts at home, 71 The days when we were young, .. .. .. 71 The flowers are blooming on the lawn, .. .. 71 The cottage by the sea, 72 The guid, guid wife, 74 To hae a wife, and rule a wife, .. . . . . 74 The dream of youth 75 This world would be a dreary waste, . . .. 76 Though I beneath a southern sky, .. .. 78 The hame ward song, 79 The rigs o' barley, 80 The good old country gentleman, 81 The bloom is on the rye, 81 The old arm chair, 81 The monks of old, 82 The light of other days is faded, 82 There's a good time coming, 83 The better land, „ .. 83 'Twas merry in the hall, 84 The meeting of the waters, 84 The exile of Erin, 85 The sprig of shillelah and shamrock so green, 85 The farewell to my harp, 86 The land of sweet Erin, 86 The angel's whisper, 86 The land of the west, 86 The minstrel boy, 87 Thefairyboy, 87 Terence's farewell to Kathleen, 87 Though the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow I see, 87 The bowld soger boy, 88 The Irish emigrant, 88 The harp that once through Tara's halls, .. 89 The fairy tempter, 90 The young May moon, 90 Terence's lament for Norah, 92 They sailed away in a gallant bark, .. .. 92 The happiest time is now 92 There's nothing true but heaven, .. .. 92 The Irish maiden's song, 93 The rose that blossoms in Killarney, .. .. 93 Through Erin's green and bonny isle, ... .. 93 The cruiskeen lawn, 93 The dear little shamrock 94 The four-leaved shamrock, 95 The hero of Ballinacrazy, 96 The boys of the Irish brigade, 96 The boys of Kilkenny, 96 The Prince's day. 98 To ladies' eyes, 98 'Twas within a mile o' Edinburgh town, .. 99 The year that's awa', 99 Thou bonnie wood of Craigie lea, 100 There lives a young lassie, 100 The rowan tree, 100 The twig of shillelah, 102 The tight Irish boy, 104 'Twas ;i, could winter night, and the tempest was snarlin', 105 The Irish duel, 105 The Kilkenny boy, 106 Page To the fair of Clogheen, with my Judy, . . . . 1»7 The broth of a boy, 107 The low-backed car, .. .. 109 The apple praties, 109 The widow Mahoney, 110 The Irish serenade, .. .. .. .. ». Ill The night is soft and calm, love, .. .. .. Ill The brisk Irish lad, Ill The kitchen poker, HI The shamrock is a purty weed, .. .. .. 114 Teddy's sprig of shillelah, 115 The Irish joiner, .. .. 116 The Irishman's way to make love, .. .. 116 'Twas at the town of neat Clogheen, .. .. 117 The beautiful Irishman, .» 118 There was a lady lived in Leith, 118 The darlin' ould stick, 119 The raal ould Irish gentleman, -.120 The Irish love-letter, 121 The world's improving every day in fashions and in wonders, 121 'Twas at the sign of the fork, 122 The Donnyb rook jig, 124 The Athlone landlady, 127 Talk not of Venus, or the loves, 129 Then fare-ye-well, ould Erin dear, .. .. 133 The Irishman and barber, 133 The Iri^h soldier, 134 The letter from Jack, 136 The Irishman's serenade, 137 The stage-struck hero, 137 The land of potatoes, O, 139 The wake of Teddy Koe, 139 The groves of Blarney, they are so charming, . . 140 The exciseman, . .. 141 Teddy the tiler .. 142 The wedding of Ballyporeen, .. .. .. 143 There's a spot by that lake, sirs, . . . . . • 144 The ould bog hole, 144 The land of shillelah, 145 The happy land of Erin, 146 The cantie spring scarce reared her head, . . 147 The Drygate brig, .. 147 The Glasgow magistrate, Mfl The unco bit want, .. 151 The dainty bit plan, 152 Tak' it, man, tak' it, 153 The kail-brose o' Auld Scotland, 153 The proof o' the puddin's the preein' o't, .. 154 Tibbie Fowler o' the glen, 154 There cam' a young man to my daddie's door, 154 The advice, 155 The bly thesome bridal, 155 Tarn Glen, 157 The bride she cam' out o' the byre, .. .. 157 The miller, 158 The lasses a' leugh, 158 The humours of Glasgow Fair, 160 The kiss ahint the door, 161 The auld highlandman, 162 'Twas on the year eleventy-nine 163 The Dougal cratur's account o' hersel', .. 164 The Highlander's invitation, 165 The broomstick, J 66 Tugal M'Tagger, .. 168 Turnimspike, 16S The piper o' Dundee, 1 69 'Tis no very lang sin' syne, 170 The lassie o' merry eighteen, 171 'Twas on a clear September night, .. .. 174 The yaller corn, 177 The belle of Tennessee, 177 Tippitywichet, 182 The great plum pudding club, W3 'Tis very hard, and so it is, 184 The old maid, 1^5 The musical wife, 1^0 There was a butcher boy, boy, boy, . . .. 1S6 The old bachelor, 187 The artful dodger, 188 The spider and the fly, 189 The one-horse shay, 189 The whole hog or none, 19i> TimTurpin, 1^0 The last stage coachman, 19i. They call me old Aunt Sally, 19 . 8 CONTENTS. Page Up in the morning early, 49 Uncle Sam, 172 Umbrella courtship, 189 Westward, ho ! 9 We may be happy yet, 10 We have lived and loved together, . . • . 13 Welcome me home, ■. .. . . IS Will you love me then as new? 15 We met, 'twas in a crowd, .. .. .. .. 16 When other lips and other hearts, . . . . 17 We have been friends together, 17 When should lovers breathe their vows ? . . 20 What need of all this fuss and strife 'i . . .. 21 While up the shrouds, 33 When trees did bud, and fields were green, .. 36 When the kye come hame, 36 Whistle o'er the lave o't, 3S Wha's at the window, wha? 40 Will ye gang o'er the lea rig? 42 When I and my Jenny thegither were tied, . . 44 When ye gang awa', Jamie, .. .. .. 45 Will ye no come back again ? 46 What can a young lassie ? 47 Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary ? . . . . 48 Wae is my heart, » . . . 49 Wandering Willie, 49 Willie Wastle, 49 "Where Cart rins rowin' to the sea, .. .. 53 When o'er the hills the eastern star, . . . . 55 Welcome, Royal Charlie, 55 When the king comes o'er the water, . . . . 56 Wha wadnafecht for Charlie? 56 Waes me for Prince Charlie, 57 Wha will ride wi' gallant Murray? .. .. 57 Wha'll be king but Charlie? 58 What's a' the steer, kimmer? 59 Was ever old warrior of suff'ring so weary, . . 61 Where ha'e ye been sae braw, lad? .. .. 6i When love grows warm there is a charm, . . 68 We'll be true to each other, 69 What is home without a mother? .. .. 70 We are growing old together, 72 Where is home? 72 What were life without some one to cheer us ? 73 Page Welcome home, .. .. .. 73 Wifle, come hame, 74 When John and me were married, .. .. 74 We were boys and girls together, .. . . 77 When I dream of the friends of my youth, . . 78 Woodman, spare that tree, 83 What can the matter be ? 8-s When waking with the rosy day, .. .. 91 Wilt thou be my bride, Kathleen? .. .. 91 What will you do, love? 9* What for should I sing you of Koman or Greek ? F6 When he who adores thee, 37 Widow Machree, .. .. 701 Widow Malone, 104 Whack ! for the honour of Ireland, .. .. 112 Woo'd and married and a', 157 Was ne'er in Scotland heard or seen, .. .. 158 What do ye think I suld do ? 159 Will you come to the board I've prepared for you? 16.3 White folks, I will sing to you, 172 When de moon shine brightly, 173 Walk along, John, 175 Who's dat knockin' at f de door? 181 White folks, I'm going to sing, 181 Who'll be an old man's darling? .. .. .. 183 When I was a girl of eighteen years old, . . 185 When Arthur ruled this land, 186 When I was a schoolboy, aged ten, .. .. 187 Why did my Sarah sell me ? 1M Ye mariners of England, , . . 10 Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, . . . . 38 Ye banks and braes, and streams around, . . 48 Young Jockey, 55 Yes, we miss thee, 76 Young Maggie looks weel, neither foolish nor vain, .. 154 You may sing o' your Wallace and brag o' your Bruce, I 65 You talk of dandy niggas, but you neber saw dis coon, 175 Zip Coon, .. .. •• m •• •• 173 THE KOSE, SHAMROCK, AND THISTLE SONG BOOK. ADIEU TO INNISFAIL. Adieu ! — the snuwy sail b wells her bosom to the gale. And our barque from Innisfail Bounds away. While we gaze upon thy shore, That we never shall see more, And the blinding tears flow o'er, We pray : Ma vourneen! be thou long In peace, the queen of song — In battle proud and strong As the sea ! Be saints thine offspring still — True heroes guard each hill — And harps by every rill Sound free! Tho\ round her Indian bowels, The hand of nature showers The brightest-blootniug flowers Of our sphere ; Yet not the richest rose In an alien clime that blows, Like the brier at home that grows Is dear. Tho' glowing breasts may be In soft vales beyond the sea, Yet ever, Qra ma chree, Shall I wail For the heart of love I leave, In the dreary hours of eve, On thy stormy shore to grieve, Innisfail. But mem'ry o'er the deep On her dewy wing shall sweep, When in midnight hours I weep O'er thy wrongs ; And bring me, steep'd in tears, The dead flow'rs of other years, And waft unto my ears Home's songs. When I slumber in the gloom Of a.namele.ss foreign tomb, By a distant ocean's boom, Innisfail! Around thy em'rald shore May the clasping sea adore, And each wave in tliuuder roar, "All hail! : ' And when the final sigh Shall bear my soul on high, And on chainless wing I fly Thro' the blue, Earth's latest thought shall be, As I soar above the sea — " Green Erin, dear, to thee — Adieu ! " WESTWARD, HO! My Mary ban,* 'tis nearly dawn, Come down, my Mary dear ; And let not those, our sleeping foes, Your passing footsteps hear. For should they wake, my life they'd take, Or take away from me My more than life, my plighted wife — My Mary ban, machree. My love, my pride, the world is wide, And wheresoe'er we roam, We've strength, and youth, and love, and truth, To build ourselves a home. There's nought but care and sorrow here In everything I see ; And nothing bright, by day or night, But Mary ban, machree. My love! I knew your word was true ; Your heart was strong and brave. We'll seek, asthore, the better shore That smiles beyond the wave ! Our lot, we know, where'er we go, A lot of toil must be; But yet away we start to-day, My Mary ban, machree. * Pronounced " bawn "—means fair. 10 THE ENGLISHMAN. Words by Eliza Cook. There's a land that bears a world-known namo, Tho' 'tis but a little spot; 'Tis the first on the blazing scroll of fame, And who shall aver it is not ! Of the deathless ones who shine and live, In arms, in arts, in song; The brightest the whole world can give To that little land belong. 'Tis the star of the earth, deny it who can, The island home of an Englishman. 'Tis the star of the earth, &e. There's a flag that waves o'er ev'ry sea, No matter when or where; And to treat that flag as aught but the free Is more than the strongest dare. For the lion spirits that tread the deck, Have carried the palm of the brave, And that flag may sink with a shot-torn wreck, But never float o'er a slave. Its honour is stainless, deny it who can, The flag of a true born Englishman. Its honour is stainless, &o. There's a heart that leaps with burning glow, The wroug'd and the weak to defend; And strikes as soon for a trampled foe, As it does for a soul-bound friend. It nurtures a deep and honest love — The passions of faith and pride — And yearns with the fondness of a dove, To the light of its own fireside. Tis a rich rough gem, deny it who can, The heart of a true-born Englishman. 'Tis a rich rough gem, &c. The Briton may traverse the pole or the zona^ And boldly claim his right; For he calls such a vast domain his own, That the sun never sets on his might. Let the haughty stranger seek to know, The place of his home and birth, And a flush will pour from cheek to brow, While he tells of his native earth. 'Tis a glorious charter, deny it who can, L That's breath 'd in the words, I'm an Englishman. 'Tis a glorious charter, &c. YE MARINEES OF ENGLAND. Words by Thomas Campbell. Ye mariners of England, that guard your native seas, Whose flag has braved a thousand years the battle and the breeze, Your glorious standard launch again to match an- other foe, As they sweep thro* the deep when the stormy winds do blow. Britannia needs no bulwark, no towers along the steep, Her march is o'er the mountain wave, her home is on the deep; With thunders from her native oak she quells the floods below, As they roar on the shore when the stormy winds do blow. The meteor flag of England shall yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart, and the star of peace return. Then, then, ye ocean warriors, our song and feast shall flow, To the famo of* your name [when the winds hava ceased to blow. RULE, BRITANNIA. Words by Thomson. When Britain first, at Heaven's command, Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung the strain : — Rule, Britannia, Britannia rule the waves, Britons never will be slaves. The nations not so blest as thee Must in their turns to tyrants fall; While thou shalt flourish great and free, The dread and envy of them all. Rule, Britannia, &c. Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke; As the loud blast that tears the skies, Serves but to root thy native oak. Rule, Britannia, &o. Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame; All their attempts to bend thee down Will but arouse thy generous flame, To work their woe and thy renown, Rule, Britannia, &c. To thee belong the rural reign, Thy cities shall with commerce shine; All thine shall be the subject main, And ev'ry shore it circles thine. Rule, Britannia, &c. The Muses, still with Freedom found, Shall to thy happy coasts repair; Blest Isle ! with matchless beauty crown'd, And manly hearts to guard the fair. Rule, Britannia, Britannia rule tiie waves, Britons never will be slaves. ENGLAND! EUROPE'S GLORY. There is a land amidst the waves, Whose sons are fam'd in story, Who never were or will be slaves, Nor shrink from death or glory. Then strike the harp and bid it swell, Admiring worlds adore ye ; Shout blessings on tho land we dwell, To Britain, Europe's glory. Blest land ! beyond all lands afar, Encircled in the waters ; With lion-hearted sons in war, And beauty's peerless daughters. Go ye, whose discontented hearts, Disdain the joys before ye, — Go seek a home in foreign parts Like England, Europe's glory. WE MAY BE HAPPY YET. Words by Alfred Buxn. ! smile as thou were wont to smile, Before the weight of care Had crush'd thy heart, and for a while Left only sorrow there. Some thoughts, perchance, 'twere best to quell, Some impulse to forget: O'er which, should memory cease to dwell, We may be happy yet, we may be happy, &o, ! never name departed days, Nor vows you whisper'd then, Round which too sad a feeling plays, To trust their tones again. Regard their shadows round thee cas% As if we ne'er had met; And thus, unmindful of the past We may be happy yet, &o, 11 HURRAH FOR THE LAND OF THE BRAVE! Words by Gilfillajt. The glory of England shall rise, As riseth the sun o'er the wave, In the temple of fame they shall echo her name- Hurrah for the land of the brave ! Her freedom had gladden'd the soil That never was trod by a slave, And beauty's fair smile gives a charm to tho islo— « Hurrah for the land of the brave I Tread light where our battle-fields lie, Each spot is a warrior's grave; Thehr bold deeds will tell, while the chorus shall swell — Hurrah for the land of the brave ! Old ocean encircles the free, And liberty's banner shall wave In pride o'er the main, while the harp sounds the strain — Hurrah for the land of the brave ! THE BRAVE OLD OAK. Words by H. F. Choeletj A song for the oak, the brave old oak, Who hath rul'd in the greenwood long; Here's health and renown to his broad green crown, And his fifty arms so strong ! There's fear in his frown, when the sun goes down And the fire in the west fades out, And he showeth his might on a wild midnight, When storms through his branches shout. Then sing to the oak, the brave old oak, Who stands in his pride alone, And still flourish he, a hale green tree When a hundred years are gens In the days of old, when the spring with gold Was lighting his branches gray, Through the grass at his feet crept maidens sweet, To gather the dew of May : And all that day, to the rebeck gay, They frolick'd with lovesome swains; They are gone, they are dead, in the churchyard laidj- But the tree he still remains. Then sing to the oak, &c. He saw the rare times, when the Christmas chime3 Were a merry sound, to hear, And the squire's wide hall, and the cottage small, Were full of good English cheer; Now gold hath the sway we all obey, And a ruthless king is he; But he never shall send our ancient friend . To be toss'd on the stormy sea. Then here's to the oak, &c TO ALL YOU LADIES. To all you ladies now on land, We men at sea indite ; But first would have you understand, How hard it is to write; The Muses now, and Neptune too, We must implore to write to you. With a fa, la, la, && In justice you cannot refuse To think of our distress; When we for hopes of honour loso Our certain happiness 1 All these designs are but to prove, Ourselves more worthy of your love. With a fa, la. la. &Q. DRINK TO ME ONLY. Words by Bex Jonsox. Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss within the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that in my soul doth rise, Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sip, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much hon'ring thee, As giving it a hope, that there It would not wither'd be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent it back to me; Since when, it grows and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee. THE BONNIE ENGLISH ROSE. Words by Chables Jeffbeys. . Old England's emblem is the rose, There is no other flow'r Hath half the graces that adorn This beauty of the bow'r; And England's daughters are as fair As any bud that blows ; What son of hers who hath not lov'd Some bonnio English rose. The bennie English rose, The bonnie English rose, W r hat son of hers who hath not lov'd Some bonnie English rose. Who hath not heard of one sweet flow'r, The first amongst the fair, For whom the best of British hearts, Have breathed a fervent prayer; ! may it never be her lot, To lose that sweet repose, That peace of mind which blesses now The bonnie English rose. The bonnie English rose, The bonnie English rose, That peace of mind that blesses now The bonnie English rose. If any bold enough there be, To war 'gainst England's isle, They soon shall find from English hearts, What charms hath woman's smile : Thus nerv'd, the thunder of their arms, Would teach aspiring foes, How vain the power that defies The bonnie English rose. The bonnie English rose, The bonnie English rose, How vain the power that defies The bonnie English rose. OLD TOWLER. Bright chanticleer proclaims the dawn, And spangles deck the thorn, The lowing herds now quit the lawn, The lark springs from the com : Dogs, huntsmen, round the window throng, Fleet Towler leads the cry; Arise the burden of my song, This day a stag must die. With a hey ho, chevy, Hark-forward, hark-forward, tantivy, Hark, hark, tantivy, This day a stag must die. 12 The cordial takes its merry round, The laugh and joke prevail, The huntsman blows a jovial sound, The dogs snuff up the gale; The upland wilds they sweep along, O'er fields, through brakes they fly, The game is rous'd, too true the song, This day a stag must die. With a hey ho, &o. Poor stag, the dogs thy haunches gore, The tears run down thy face, The huntsman's pleasure is no more, His joys were in the chase; Alike the gen'rous sportsman burns To win the blooming fair, — But yet he honours each by turns, They each become his care. With a hey ho, &c. LIVE AND LET LIVE. Live and let live, 'tis the great law of nature, Man to his fellow should ever be kind — He whose high bounty protects every creature, Taught us to practise this precept refined. Wide is the world, and tho' various in station, Each to his neighbour good wishes may give; All men belong to humanity's nation, Natur-s's great law is, to live and let live. Live and let live, 'tis the law of our being, The rich and the poor on each other depend; All men are equal before the All-seeing, Each in his turn stands in need of a friend. Be to a foe in distress like a brother; Oh ! it is sweet to forget and forgive — Love all that's lovely, be kind to each other, Nature's best law is, to live and let live THE ANCHOR'S WEIGHED. Tire tear fell gently from her eye When last we parted on the shore ; My bosom heav'd with many a sigh, To think I ne'er might see her more. Dear youth ! she cried, and canst thou haste away F My heart will break — a little moment stay ; Alas! I cannot — I cannot part from thee. The anchor's weigh'd— farewell! farewell! re- member me. Weep not, my love, I trembling said; Doubt not a constant heart like mine; I ne'er can meet another maid Whose charms can fix my heart like thine. Go then, she cried, but let thy constant mind Oft think of her thou leav'st in tears behind : Dear maid — this last embrace my pledge shall be. The anchor's weigh'd— farewell ! farewell! re- member me. I'M AFLOAT ! I'M AFLOAT ! Words by Eliza Cook. I'm afloat! I'm afloat on the fierce rolling tide, The ocean's my home, and my bark is my bride; Up, up with my flag, let it wave o'er the sea — I'm afloat ! I'm afloat, and the Rover is free. I fear not the monarch, I heed not the law, I've a compass to steer by, a dagger to draw; And ne'er, as a coward or slave, will I kneel, While my guns carry shot, or my belt wears a steel. Quick, quick, trim her sail, let the sheet kiss the wind, And I warrant we'll soon leave the seagulls behind; Up, up with my flag, let it wave o'er the sea — I'm afloat I I'm afloat ! and the Rover is free. I'm afloat ! I'm. afloat ! and the Koyer is free. The night gathers o'er us, the thunder is heard— What matter? our vessel skims on like a bird ; ' What to her is the dash of the storm-ridden main ? She has brav'd it before, and will brave it again. The fire gleaming flashes around us may fall, They may strike, they may cleave, but they can- not appal ; With lightnings above us, and darkness below, Through the wild waste of waters right onward we go. Hurrah! my brave comrades, ye may drink, ye may sleep, The storm fiend is hush'd, we're alone on the deep; Our flag of defiance still waves o'er the sea — I'm afloat! I'm afloat! and the Rover is free. I'm afloat! I'm afloat ! and the Rover is free. THE DAYS THAT ARE NO MORE. Words by Alfred Tennyson. Teaks, idle tears, I know not what they mean ; Tears, from the depth of some divine despair, Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy, happy autumn fields, And thinking, thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glitt'ring on a sail, That brings our friends up from tha under world; Sad as the last, which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the wave; So sad, so fresh the days that are no more. Dear as remember'd kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others, deep as love — Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; Oh ! death in life, the days that are no more. A LIFE ON THE OCEAN WAVE. A life on the ocean wave ! A home on the rolling deep ! Where the scatter'd waters rave, And the winds their revels keep! A home on the rolling deep ! Where the scatter'd waters rave, And the winds their revels keep! Like an eagle cag'd I pine, On this dull unchanging shore; Oh, give me the flashing brine, The spray and the tempest's roar, A life on the ocean wave! A home on the rolling deep! Where the scatter'd waters rave, And the winds their revels keep ! The winds, the winds, the winds their revels keep\ The winds, the winds, the winds their revels kcepl^ Once more on the deck I stand, Of my own swift-gliding craft; Set sail ! farewell to the land ; The gale follows fair abaft Of my own swift gliding craft. Set sail ! farewell to the land; The gale follows fair abaft. We shoot through the sparkling foam, Like an ocean bird set free; Like the ocean bird, our home We'll find far out on the sea. A life on the ocean wave ! A home on the rolling deep! Where the scatter'd waters rave, And the winds their revels keep! The winds, the winds, the winds their revels keepl The winds, the winds, the winds their revels keepl 1 13 WE HAVE LIVED AND LOVED TOGETHER We have lived and loved together, Through many changing years — We have shared each other's gladness, And wept each other's tears. I have never known a sorrow That was long unsoothed by thee, — For thy smile can make a summer Where darkness else would be. For thy smile, &c. Like the leaves that fall around us In autumn's fading liours, Are the traitor smiles that darken When the cloud of sorrow lowers. And though many such we've known, love, Too prone, alas ! to range, We both can speak of one, love, Whom time could never change* We both can speak, &c. We have lived and loved together, Through many changing years — We have shared each other's gladness, And wept each other's tears. And let us hope the future, As the past hath been shall be ; I will share with thee thy sorrows, And thou thy joys with me. 1 will share, &c. ILL HANG MY HARP ON A WILLOW TREE. Words by T. Hatnes Bayley., I'll hang my harp on a willow tree; I'll off to the wars again ; My peaceful home has no charms for me, The battle-field no pain. The lady I love will soon be a bride, With a diadem on her brow; Oh ! why did she flatter my boyish pride ? She's going to leave me now; Oh! why did she flatter my boyish pride ? She's going to leave me now. She took me away from my warlike lord, And gave me a silken suit ; I thought no more of my master's sword, When I play'd on my master's lute. She seem'd to think me a boy above Her pages of low degree. Oh ! had I but lov'd with a boyish love, It would have been better for me; Oh ! had I but lov'd with a boyish love, It would have been better for me. Then I'll hide in my breast ev'ry selfish care; I'll flush my pale cheek with wine; W hen smiles awake the bridal pair I'll hasten to give them mine. I'll laugh and I'll sing, though my heart may bleed* And I'll Avalk in the festive train ; And if I survive it I'll mount my steed, And I'll off to the wars again ; And if I survive it I'll mount my steed, And I'll off to the wars again. But one golden tress of her hair I'll twine In my helmet's sable plume, And then, on the field of Palestine I'll seek an early doom : And if by the Saracen's hand I fe-13, 'Mid the noble and the brave, A tear from my lady-love is all I ask for the warrior's grave; A tear from my lady-love is all I ask for the warrior's grave. IN THE DAYS WHEN WE WENT GIPSYING. Words by Ransfoed. In the days when we went gipsying, A long time ago, The lads and lasses in their best Were dress'd from top to toe. We dane'd and sung the jocund song Upon the forest green ; And nought but mirth and jollity Around us could be seen ; And thus we pass'd the pleasant time, Nor thought of care or woe, In the days when we went gipsying, £3. A.11 hearts were light, and eyes were bright, While nature's face was gay; The trees their leafy branches spread, And perfume filled the May. 'Twas there we heard the cuckoo's note Steal softly through the air; While every scene around us look'd Most beautiful and fair; And thus we pass'd the pleasant time* Nor thought of care or woe, In the days when we went gipsying, £3. We fill'd a glass to every lass, And all our friends most dear, And wish'd them many happy days, And many a happy year. We gave the Queen, with all our hear*, And may her subjects be Our nation's pride, all lands beside, And glory of the sea; And thus we pass'd the pleasant time, Nor thought of care or woe, In the days when we went gipsying, &o* And should we ever pay again A visit to the scene, We'll sing, with all our heart and voice, God bless our gracious Queen. May she live long o'er us to reign, And by her actions prove, That she has gain'd her utmost wish — A people's lasting love ; And thus we'll pass the pleasant time, Nor think of care or woe, As we did when we went gipsying, A long time ago, &c. LOVE NOT. Words by Hon. Mrs Norton. Love not! love not! ye hapless sons of clay, Hope's gayest wreaths are made of earthly flow'rs, Things that are made to fade and fall away, Ere they have blossom'd for a few short hours, Ere they have blossom'd for a few short hours. Love not! love not! Love not! love not! the thing you lovemay'die— May perish from the gay and gladsome earth; The silent stars, the blue and smiling sky, Beam on its grave as once upon its birth, Beam on its grave as once upon its birth. Love not! love not! Love not! love not! the thing you love may change — Therosy lip may cease to smile on you; The kindly beaming eye grow cold and strange ; The heart still warmly beat, yet not be true, The heart still warmly beat, yet not be true. Love not I love not I 14 Love not! love not! oh! warning vainly said, In present hours as in years gone by; Love flings a halo round the dear one's head; Faultless, immortal till they change or die, Faultless, immortal till they change or die. Love not! love not! I LOVE THE MERRY SUNSHINE. Words by J. W. Lake. I love the merry merry sunshine — It makes the heart so gay To hear the sweet birds singing On their summer holiday, With their wild wood-notes of duty, 1'Ycm hawthorn bush and tree; Oh ! the sunshine is all beauty — Oh ! the merry merry sun for me. I love the merry merry sunshine — It makes the heart so gay To hear the sweet birds singing On their summer holiday. The merry merry sun, the merry sun, The merry merry sun for me ; The merry merry sun, the merry sun, The merry merry sun for me. I love the merry merry sunshine — Through the dewy morning's show'r, With its rosy smiles advancing, Like a beauty from her bower- It charms the soul in sadness, It sets the spirit free; Oh ! the sunshine is all gladness — Oh 1 the merry merry sun for me. I love the merry merry sunshine, && ANNIE O' THE BANKS O' DEE. It may not be, it cannot be, That such a gem was made for me ; But oh ! gin it had been my lot,— A palace, not a highland cot. That bonnie, simple gem had thrown Bright lustre round a jewell'd crown; For oh ! the sweetest lass to me, Is Annie o' the Banks o' Dee. I love her for her artless truth, I love her wi' the heart o' youth ; When a' the golden dreams o' love Bring winged angels from above, A stolen glance from Annie, snares My heart away from all its cares. For oh! the sweetest lass to me, Is Annie o' the Banks o' Dee. LOVE THEE, DEAREST. Love thee, dearest, love thee? Yes, by j'onder star I swear! Which, thro' tears above thee, Shines so sadly fair. Tho' often dim with tears like him, Like him my truth will shine; And love thee, dearest, love thee? Yes! till death I'm thine. Leave thee, dearest, leave thee? No ! that star is not more true; When my vows deceive thee, He will wander too. A cloud of night may veil his light, And death 6hall darken mine ; But leave tfiee, dearest, leave thee? No I till death I'm thine. THE CAVALIER. Words by W. H. Bellamy. 'TwAS a beautiful night— the stars shone bright, And the moon o'er the waters play'd — When a cavalier to a bower drew near, A lady to serenade. To tenderest words he swept the chords, And many a sigh breathed he ; While o'er and o'er he fondly swore, "Sweet maid! I love but thee; Sweet maid, sweet maid, sweet maid, I love but thee Sweet maid," &c. He raised his eye to her lattice high, While he softly breathed his hopes; With amazement he sees swing about with the breeze, All ready a ladder of ropes. Up, up he has gone, the bird it is flown, " What is this on the ground ?" quoth he ; " Oh, it's plain that she loves, here's some gentle* man's gloves, She's off, it's not with me; For these gloves, these gloves, they never belong'd to me. For these gloves," &c. Of course, you'd have thought, he'd have follow'd and fought, As that was a " duelling age;" But this gay cavalier he quite scorn'd the idea Of putting himself in a rage. More wise by far, he put up his guitar; And as homeward he went, sung he— " When a lady elopes down a ladder of ropes, She may go to Hong-Kong for me. She may go, she may go, she may go to Hong-Kong for me. She may go," «£c BY THE SAD SEA WAVES. By the sad sea waves I listen, while they moan A lament o'er graves of hope and pleasure gone : I was young, I was fair, I had once not a care From the rising of the morn to the setting of tha sun, Yet I pine like a slave by the sad sea wave. Come again, bright days of hope and pleasure gone. Come again, bright days, come again, come again. From my care last night, by holy sleep beguil'd, In the fair dream-light my home upon me smil'd; Oh! how sweet 'mid the dew every flow'r that I knew, Breath'd a gentle welcome back to the worn and weary child. I awake in my grave by the sad sea wave, Come again, dear dream, so peacefully that smil'd. Come again j dear dream, come again, come again. LET US SPEAK OF A MAN AS WE FIND HIM. Words by J. Simmonds. Let us speak of a man as we find him, And censure alone what we see; And should a man blame, let's remind him That from faults we are none of us free; If the veil from the heart could be torn, And the mind could be read on the brow; There are many we'd pass by with scorn, Whom we're loading with high honours noisr. Let us speak of a man as we find him, And heed not what others may say; If lie's frail, then a kind word will bind him, Where coldness would turn him away. For the heart must be barren indeed, Where no bud of repentance can bloom; Then pause ere you cause it to bleed — On a smile or a frown hangs its doom. 15 WELCOME ME HOME. "Words by T. Hatnes Baylv. Gaily the troubadour touch'd his guitar, When he was hastening home from the war; Singing, " From Palestine hither I come, Ladye love 1 ladye love ! welcome me home.*' She for the troubadour hopelessly wept, Sadly she thought of him when others slept; Singing, " In search of thee would I might roam ; Troubadour I troubadour! come to thy home." Hark ! 'twas the troubadour breathing her name, Under the battlement softly he came; Singing, " From Palestine hither I come, Ladye love ! ladye love ! welcome me home." MY HEART WITH LOVE IS BEATING. My heart with love is beating Responsive to my sighs ; Alas ! there's no retreating — The winged arrow flies. Then why vain anguish cherish ? The stricken deer must stay ; Should Julio bid me perish, His captive must obey. Could deeds my heart discover, And constant truth prevail, Twould prove no other lover Could dare thy rights assail. Oh ! bending then before thee, An humble maiden see, Whose love, delight, and glory, Are centred all in thee. THE SOLDIER'S TEAR. Upon the hill he turn'd, to take a last fond look Of the valley and the village church, and the cottage by the brook; He listen 'd to the sound so familiar to his ear, And the soldier lean'd upon his sword and wip'd away a tear. Beside yon cottage porch a girl was on her knees, She held aloft a snowy scarf that flutter*d in the breeze; [hear; She breath'd a prayer for him — a prayer he could not But he paused to bless her as she knelt, and wip'd away a tear. He turn'd and left the spot. Oh ! do not deem him weak, For dauntless was the soldier's heart, tho' tears were on his cheek. Go watch the foremost rank in danger's dark career, Be sure the hand most daring there has wip'd away a tear. ALL THINGS LOVE THEE, SO DO I. Gentle waves upon the deep, Murmur soft when thou dost sleep; Little birds upon the tree, Sing their sweetest songs for thee, Their sweetest songs for thee. Cooling gales with voices low, In the tree-top gently blow; When thou dost in slumbers lie, All things love thee, so do I: When thou dost in slumbers lio, All things love thee, so do I, All things love thee, All things love thee, '- All things love thee, so do L When thou Tmk'st, the eea will pour Treasures for thee to the shore; And the earth, in plant and tree, Bring forth fruit and flow'rs for thee; Fruit and flowers for thee. Whilst the glorious stars above, Shine on thee like trusting love, When thou dost in slumbers he, All things love thee, so do I. When thou dost, &c. THE IVY GREEN. Words by Charles Dickens. ? > i - 1 *i Oh ! a dainty plant is the Ivy green, That creepeth o'er ruins old ; Of right choice food are his meals, I ween, In his cell so lone and cold. The walls must be crumbled, the stones decay'd, To pleasure his dainty whim ; And the mould'ring dust that years have made Is a merry meal for him. Creeping where no life is seen, A rare old plant is the Ivy green; Oh, creeping where no life is seen, A rare old plant is the Ivy green; Creeping, creeping, creeping where no life is seen, Creeping, creeping, a rare old plant is the Ivy green Fast he stealeth on, tho' he wears no wings, And a stanch old heart has he; How closely he twineth, how tight he clings, To his friend the huge oak tree ! And slyly he traileth along the ground, And his leaves he gently waves, As he joyously hugs and crawleth round The rich mould of dead men's graves. Creeping where, Ac Whole ages have fled, and their works decay'd, And nations have scatter'd been ; But the stout old Ivy shall never fade From its hale and hearty green ; The brave old plant in its lonely days Shall fatten upon the past; For the stateliest building man can raise, Is the Ivy's food at last. Creeping where, &c. WILL YOU LOVE ME THEN AS NOV/? You have told me that you love me. And you heart's thoughts seem to speak, As you look on me so fondly, f cheek, And the life-blood, and the life-blood tints youi May I trust that these warm feelings Never will grow cold and strange ; And that you'll remain unaltered, In this weary world, this weary world of change ? When the shades of care or sorrow, Dim mine eyes and cloud my brow, And my spirit sinks within me, Will you love me, will you love me then as note t Though our youth may pass unclouded, In a peaceful, happy home; Yet, as year on year advances, Changes must, changes must upon us come. For the step will lose its lightness, And the hair be changed to grey; Eyes, once bright, give up their brightness, And the hopes of youth, the hopes of youth decay. When all these have passed upon me, And stern age has touch'd my brow; Will the change find you unchanging ? Will you lovo me, will you love me then as now? 16 THE DREAM. Words by Alfred Bumf. I DREAMT that I dwelt in marble halls, With vassals and serfs at my side; And of all who assembl'd within those walls, That I was the^hope and the pride. , I had riches too great to count — could boast Of a high ancestral name; But I also dreamt, which pleas'd me most, That you lov'd me still the same. That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same; That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same. I dreamt that suitors sought my hand, That knights on bended knee, And with vows no maiden heart could withstand, They pledg'd their faith to me. And I'dreamt that one of that noble host Came forth that hand to claim ; But I also dreamt, which charm'd me most, That you lov'd me still the same. That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same; That you lov'd me, you lov'd me still the same. THE MISTLETOE BOUGH. The mistletoe hung in the castle hall; The holly branch shone on the old oak wall; And the baron's retainers were blithe and gay, And keeping their Christmas holiday : The baron beheld with a father's pride, His beautiful child, young Lovel's bride ; While she with her bright eyes, seem'd to b« The star of the goodly company. Oh ! the mistletoe bough. Oh ! the mistletoe bough. '■* I'm weary of dancing now," she cried, " Here tarry a moment, I'll hide, I'll hide, And Lovel, be sure tbou'rt the first to trace The clue to my secret lurking place." Away she ran, and her friends began Each tower to search, and each nook to scan; And young Lovel cried, "Oh! where dost thou hide; I'm lonesome without thee, my own dear bride?" Oh ! the mistletoe bough, &c. They sought her that night, and they sought her next day, And they sought her in vain, when a week pass'd away, In the highest— the lowest — the loneliest spot, Young Lovel sought wildly, but found her not : And years flew by, and their grief at last Was told as a sorrowful tale long past; And when Lovel appear'd, the children cried, " See, the old man weeps for his fairy bride." Oh ! the mistletoe bough, &c. At length an old chest that had long lain hid, Was found in the castle — they raised the lid, And a skeleton form lay mouldering there, In the bridal wreath of the lady fair ! Oh ! sad was her fate! — in sportive jest She hid from her lord in the old oak chest. It closed with a spring ! and the bridal bloom Lay withering there in a living tomb. Oh ! the mistletoe bough, &c WE MET. Words by T. H. Bayley, Esq. We met; 'twas in a crowd, and I thought he would shun me; He came— I could not breathe, for his eye was upon me, — He spoke— his words were cold, and his smile waa unalter'd, I knew how much he felt, for his deep-ton'd voice falter'd. I wore my bridal robe, and I rivall'd its whiteness, _ Bright gems were in my hair — how I hated their brightness I He call'd me by my name, as the bride of another; thou hast been the cause of this anguish, my mother ! And once again we met, and a fair girl was near him, He smiled and whisper'd low, as once I used to hear him; She leant upon his arm — once 'twas mine, and mine only, 1 wept, for I deserv'd to feel wretched and lonely : And she will be his bride — at the altar he'll give her The love that was too pure for a heartless deceiver; The world may think me gay, for my feelings I smother, thou hast been the cause of this anguish, my mother ! 'TWAS YOU, SIR. 'Twas you, sir, 'twas you, sir, I tell you nothing new, sir, 'Twas you that kiss'd the pretty girl, 'Twas you, sir, you; 'Tis true, sir, 'tis true, sir, You look so very blue, sir, I'm sure you kiss'd the pretty girl, 'Tis true, sir, true. 0, sir, no, sir, How can you wrong me so, sir, I did not kiss the pretty girl- But I know who. THE ASSIGNATION. Words by W. Lancaster, JUST at twilight's dusky close, When stars arise to greet thee, Where the blackthorn wildly grows, There, love, there I'll meet thee. Thou know'st the spot : 'tis shaded qui to Beyond the rude intruder's sight, In that lone grove, at birth of night, There, love, there I'll meet thee. v Just at twilight's dusky close, &c What I'll think, and what I'll say, And how of time I'll cheat thee, And when's to be the blissful day, I'll tell thee when I meet thee. We'll live a lifetime in that hour, By love's all-hallow'd potent power; And love shall consecrate the bow'r Where, love, where I'll meet thee. Just at twilight's dusky close, &© wine cup, the wine cup, bring hither, And fill it up true to the brim, Slay the wreath Nelson won never wither, Nor the star of his glozy grow dim. Hay the service united ne'er sever, But still to her colours prove true, The Army and Navy for ever I Three cheers for the red, white, and blue ! THE QUEEN OF THE SEA. Away on the sea, away on the sea, W T ith the wild waves dashing around, To a life that ever is merry and free, Where true hearts are sure to be found. Whenever the call of his country rings, The bold British sailor will be As true to the last as his guiding star To Britannia, the Queen of the Sea, But victory won, he thinks of his home And lov'd ones, that absence endears; Fond faces, sweet smiles, seem to hover around, And eyes shining brightly through tears. Such men are the boast and pride of our land, The noble, the hearty, the free; And true to the last, as needle to pole, To Britannia, the Queen of the Sea. Long may our sailors brave, England's proud Freedom save, Over the boundless wave, For England's Queen. THE BATTLi AND THE BREEZE, To Britain's glorious walls of oak, Fill high the patriot glass; To all who spurn oppression's yoke, Round let the goblet pass; And lo ! when Freedom's flag appears, Queen of the subject seas; The flag that brav'd a thousand years, The battle and the breeze. O'er many a scene of purple war, From India's cocoa bowers, Has victory's banner beam'd afar, From Sai*agossa's towers. For least when her proud flag she rcar3 High o'er the subject seas; The flag that brav'd a thousand years, The battle and the breeze. THE RED CROSS BANNER. England, if still the patriot fires That warm'd the bosoms ot thy sires Dwell with their sons, what heart can fail, Long as there floats upon the gale, Thy Red Cross Banner, proudly free, Still to throb high for liberty ? When first on Albion's sea-girt shore, Her foot fair Freedom press' d, Its hills and vales she wander'd o'er, And thus the soil she bless'd : "Land of the fair, the free, the brave, Rule thou the rolling sea; There let thy Red Cross Banner wave The foremost of the free. " Forth flew the word from pole to polo^ And conquer'd worlds can tell As yet where'er the billows roil, We've kept our charter well. 24 There's not a shore that ocean lavca, But Freedom there may see That England's Red Cross Banner waves The foremost of the free. And while one single shred will fly, Lit by its glories past, England must lift that banner high, Must nail it to the mast; For England's sun will set in shame, And dark her doom must be. If e'er her vaunting foes should claim The Empire of the sea. THE QUEEN AND THE NAVY FOR EVEB. Recitative. Fair is the lily, sweet is the blushing rose, But that seems fairer, this more brightly glows, Blent with the laurel whose immortal green, Is fitting type for our own island Queen. Sweet as the blushing rose — as lily fair, She twines the laurel round her auburn hair, And aims at conquests — fearing not to lose A nation's love, she smilingly subdues; With natural graces all her charms and arts, Lov'd soon as seen, she reigns the Queen of Hoart3, Aik. Tbe boast of old England, the pride of our Queen, The shield of our freedom and glory, Her gallant defender — the navy I mean — Whose deeds are recorded in story. Her race on the ocean has won every prize, No foe could her strength e'er dissever; Then fill up a bumper — Britannia arise — Here's the Queen and the Navy for ever ! When war spread destruction and terror on earth, And filled every heart with commotion, Free from carnage and spoil was the land of our birth, Through the brave British tars on the ocean. Long life to their glory ! may time from their brows The evergreen laurel ne'er sever; But this be the toast, when Britons carouse, The Queen and the Navy for ever 1 BRITANNIA. Words by Blockley. Britannia, regardless of traitors and foes, Triumphantly rides on the billow : Behold her majestic in peaceful repose, The deep rolling ocean her pillow. Serenely she rests 'neath her banner unfurl'd, While fame with fond praise writes her story, Her union-jack proclaims to the world, The might of her grandeur and glory. Britannia. &c. Should war blow her clarion with fury and strife, And terrify cowardly railers, A thousand swords flashing will leap into life, In the hands of our soldiers and sailors. 'Mid the tumult and havoc of death-dealing gunes When the grim face of battle is gory, The genius of England will smile on her sons, And lead them to triumph and glory. Britannia, r one tack more, and 'fore the wind Shall we, in a few glasses, ow make the land both true and kind, To find our friends and lasses. By the mark seven ! Then heave the lead, my lad, once rnoroj Soon shall we gaily tread the shore, And a half four 1 COME SIT THEE DOWN. Pome sit thee down, my bonnie, bonnie love. Come sit thee down by me, love, And I will tell thee many a tale Of the dangers of the sea; Of the perils of the deep, love, Where the angry tempests roar; 'And the raging billows wildly dash Upon the groaning shore. Come sit thee down, &c. rhe skies are flaming red, my love, The skies are flaming red, love, ind darkly rolls the mountain wave, ' And rears its monstrous head. Vhile skies and ocean blending, And bitter howls the blast, Lnd the daring tar, 'twist life and death. , Clings to the shatter'd mast ! Come sit thee down, &q. Jack dances and sings, and is always content; In his vows to his lass he'll ne'er fail her; His anchor's atrip when his money's all spent,— And this is the life of a sailor. Alert in his duty he readily flies Where winds the tir'd vessels are flinging; Though sunk to the sea-gods, or toss'd to the skicj^ Still Jack is found working and singing, Still Jack is found working and singing. 'Long side of an enemy, boldly and brave, He'll with broadside on broadside regale her; Yet he'll sigh to the soul o'er that enemy's grave,— So noble's the mind of a sailor. Let cannons roar loud, burst their sides let the bcm'oa, Let the winds a dread hurricane rattle; The rough and the pleasant he takes as it comes, — The rough and the pleasant he takes as it come3, And laughs at the storm and the battle, — And laughs at the storm and tho battle. In a fostering power while Jack puts his trust, As fortune comes smiling he'll hail her; Resign' d still, and manly, since what must be must, And this is the mind of a sailor. Though careless and headlong, if danger should presq And rank'd 'mongst the free list of rovers, Yet he'll melt into tears at a tale of distress, — He'll melt into tears at a tale of distress,—* He'll melt into tears at a tale of distress, And prove the most constant of lovers. To rancour unknown, to no passion a slave, Nor unmanly, nor mean, nor a railer. - He's gentle as merry, as fortitude brave, And this is a tiue English sailor. THE SHIPWRECK. Avert yon omen, gracious Heav'n ! The ugly scud, By rising winds resistless driv'n, Kisses the flood. How hard the lot for sailors cast, That they should roam For years, to perish thus at last, In sight of home ! For if the coming gale we mourn, A tempest grows, Our vessel's shatter'd so, and torn, That down she goes I The tempest comes, while metors red Portentous fly; And now we touch old ocean's bed, Now reach the sky ! On sable wings, in gloomy flight, Fiends seem to wait, To snatch us in this dreadful night, Dark as our fate: Unless some kind, some pitying, pow'r Should interpose, She labors so, withiu this hour, That down she goes ! But see, on rosy pinions borne, O'er the mad deep, Reluctant beams the sorr'wing mois, With us to weep: Deceitful sorrow, cheerless light, Dreadful to think ! The morn is ris'n, in endless night Our hopes to sink I She splits ! she parts !— thro' sluices driVnp The water flows: — Adieu, ye friends ! have mercy, heav'n I For down she goes 1 32 EVERY INCH A BAILOR. TEE wind blew hard, the sea ran high The dingy scud drove 'cross the sky : All was safe lash'd, the bowl was slung When careless thus Ned Haulyard sung ; A sailor's life the life for me, He takes his duty merrily. If winds can whistle, he can sing; Still faithful, to his friend and king, He gets belov'd by all the ship, And toasts his girl, and drinks his flip : A sailor's life, oun by the dyke-side a lady did dwell, At his table-head he thocht she'd look well: M Wish's ae dochter o' Claversha' Lea, A pennyless lass, wi' a lang pedigree. His wig was weel pouthered, as guid as when new, His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue, He put on a ring, a sword, and cocked hat; And wha could refuse the Laird wi' a' that ? He mounted his mare, and rade cannily, An' rapp'd at the yett o' Claversha' Lea, — " (J no tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben, She's wanted to speak to the Laird o' Cockpen." Mistress Jean was makin' the elder-flower wine — "An' what brings the Laird at sic a like time? " She pat afF her apron, and on her silk gown, Her mutch wi' red ribbons, an' gaed awa' down. An' when she came ben, he bow'd fu' low, An' what was his errand he soon let her know; Amazed was the Laird when the lady said— "Na," An' wi' a laigh court'sy she turned awa. Dumfoundered he was— but nae sigh did he gie, Jle mounted his mare, and rade cannily;' An' often he thocht, as he gaed through the glen, " She's daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen." And now that the Laird his exit had made. Mistress Jean she reflected on what she had said ; " Oh ! for ane I'll get better, it's waur I'll get ten— I was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen." Neist time that the Laird and the Lady were seen! They were gaun arm in arm to the kirk on tho green : Now she sits in the ha' like a weel-tappit hen, But as yet there's nae chickens appear'd at Cock- pen. THE FLOWERS OF THE FOREST. Words by Mrs Cockburn. I've seen the smiling of fortune beguiling, I've felt a>l its favours, and found its decay; Sweet was its blessing, and kind its caressing, But now it is fled, it is fled far away: I've seen the forest adorned the foremost With flowers of the fairest, most pleasant and gay; So bonny was their blooming, their scent the air perfuming, But now they are wither'd and weeded away. I've seen the morning with gold the hills adorning. And loud tempest storming before the mid-day • I've seen the Tweed's silver streams glittering in the sunny beams, Grow drumly and dark as he row'd on his way. I fickle fortune, why this cruel sporting — ! why still perplex us poor sons of a day ? No more your smiles can cheer me, no more your frowns can fear me, For the flowers of the forest are wither'd away. LOUDON'S BONNIE WOODS AND BRAE3, Words by Tannahill. Loudon's bonnie woods and braes, I maun lea' them a', lassie ; Wha can thole when Britain's faes, Wad gie Britons law, lassie ? Wha wad shun the field o* danger? Wha frae fame would live a stranger? Now when freedom bids avenge her, Wha wad shun her ca', lassie ? Loudon's bonnie woods and braes, Hae seen our happy bridal days, An' gentle hope shall soothe thy wacs, When I am far awa', lassie I Hark ! the swelling bugle sings, Yielding joy to thee, laddie; But the dolefu' bugle brings Waefu' thoughts to me, laddie: Lanely T maun climb the mountain, Lanely stray beside the fountain, Still the weary moments countin', Far frae love and thee, laddie. O'er the gory fields of war, When vengeance drives his crimson car, Thou'lt maybe fa', frne me afar, And nane to close thy e'e, laddio, 01 resume thy wonted smile, ! suppress thy fears, lassie; Glorious honour crowns the toil That the soldier shares, lassie. Heaven will shield thy faithful lovcr t 'Till the vengeful strife is over , Then we'll meet nae mair to sever, 'Till the day we die, ^ssie; 40 ^liflst otiv bonnie woods andbme9 "We'll spend our peaceful, happy days, As blythe's yon lightsome lamb that playa On Loudon's flow'ry lea, lassie. BONNIE DUNDEE. Words by Sir Walter Sco-rr. To the Lords of Convention 'twas Clavcrhousa spoke— [to he broke; Ere the King's crown go down tnere are crowns Then each cavalier who loves: honottr and me, Let him follow the bonnets of Bonnie Dundee. Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, Come saddle my horses, and call out my men; Unhook the Wbst port and let us gae free, For its up w'ti'a the bonnets of Bonnie Dundee. Dundee he is mounied, he rides up the street, The bells they ring backward, the drums they are beat; [it be, But the Provost (douce man) said, *' Just e v en let For the toun is weel rid o' that de'il o' Dundee." Come fill up, &c. There are hills beyond Pentland and lands be- yond Forth, [the north; If there's Lords in the south there are chiefs in There are brave Duinewassels, three thousand times three, Will cry, Hey! for the bonnets of Bonnie Dundee, Come fill up, &c. Then awa to the hills, to the lea, to the rocks, Ere I own a usurper I'll crouch wi' the fox ; Aixl tremble, false Whigs, in the midst o' your glee. Ye hae no' seen the last o' my bonnets and me. Come fill up, &c. . GLOOMY WINTER'S NOW AW A. Words by Tannahill. Gloomy winter's now awa, Saft the westlin' breezes blaw; 'Mang the birks o' Stanley-shaw The mavis sings fu' chcerie, 0. Sweet the craw-flower's early bell Deck's Gleniffer's dewy dell, Blooming like thy bonnie sel*, My young, my artless dearie, O Come, my lassie, let us stray, O'er Glenkilloch's sunny brae, Blythely spend the gowden day 'Midst joys that never wearie, O Towering «*'er the Newton woods, Laverocks fan the snaw-white clouds, Siller saughs, wi' downie buds, Adorn the banks sae brierie, 0. Round the sylvan fairy nooks, Fcath'ry braikens fringe the rocks, 'Neath the brae the burnie jouks, And ilka thing is cheerie, O. Trees may bud, and birds may sing, Flowers may bloom, and verdure spring, Joy to me they cusu^. fcrsig, Unless wi' thee, my dearie, O THOUGH YOU LEAVE ME NOW IN SORROW. Thougtt you leave me now in sorrow, Smiles may light our love to-morrow, / Doom'd to part, my faithful heart A gleam of joy from hope shall borrow Ah ! ne'er forget, when friends are near, Thio heart alone is thine for ever; Thou may'st find those will love thee dear, But not a love like mine, never ! WHA'S AT THE WINDOW, WHA?- Words by Alex. Carlyle. Wha's at the window, wha, wha ? O wha's at the window, wha, wha? Wha but blythe Jamie Glen, He's come sax miles and ten, To talc bonnie Jeanie awa, awa, To tak bonnie Jeanie awa. Bridal maidens are braw, braw, O bridal maidens are braw, braw; But the bride's modest e'e, And warm cheek are to me, 'Boon pearlens and brooches, an' a', an' a', 'Boon pearlens and brooches, an' a'. There's mirth on the green, in the ha', the ha', There's mirth on the green r in the ha', the ha', There's laughing, there's quaffing, There's jesting, there's daffing, But the bride's father's blythest of a', of a', But the bride's father's bl> thest of a'. It's no that she's Jamie's ava, ava, It's no that she's Jamie's ava, ava, That my heart is sae weary, When a' the lave's cheerie, But it's just that she'll aye be awa, awa, But it's just that she'll aye be awa. JESSIE THE FLOWER 0' DUMBLANE. Words by Tannahill. Titr sun has gane down o'er the lofty Eenlomond, And left the red clouds to preside o'er the scene ■ While lan'ely I stray in the calm summer gloam in' To muse ou sweet Jessie, the flow'ro'Dumblane. now sweet is the brier, wi' its saft fauldlnjj blossom ! And sweet is the birk wi' its mantle o' green ; Yet sweeter and fairer, and dear to this bosom, Is lovely young Jessie, the flow'r o' Dumblane. She's modest as ony, and blythe as she's bonny. For guileless simplicity marks her its ain; And far be the villain, divested of feeling, Wha'd blight in its bloom the sweet tlower o Dumblane. [e'ening, Sing on, thou sweet mavis, thy hymn to the Thou'rt dear to the echoes of Calderwood glen; Sae dear to this bosom, sae artless and winning, Is charming young Jessie, the flower o' Dum- blane. How lost were my dnys till I met wi' my Jessie, The sports of the citv seemed foolish and vain, I ne'er saw a nymph I could ca' my dear lassie, Till charm'd wi' sweet Jessie, the flow'r o' Dum- blane. . Though mine were the station o' loftiest grandeur, Amidst its profusion I'd languish in pain, [dour, And reckon as naething the height o' its splcn- lf wanting sweet Jessie, the flow'r o' Dumblane. ftlY LOVE IS LIKE THE RED, RED ROSE. Words by Burns. bit love's like the red, red rose That's newly sprung in June : my love's like the melody That's sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in love am I, And I will love thee still, my dear, Tho' a' the seas gang dry. 41 Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun; And I will love thee still, my dear. While the sands of life shall run. But fare thee weel, my only love, And fare thee weel a while: And I will come again, my love, Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile. WHISTLE AN* I'LL COME TO YOU, MY LAD. Words by Burns. O witistle an' I'll come to you, ray lad; O whistle an* I'll come to you, my lad ; • Tho' faither an' mither an' a' should gae ma3, whistle an' I'll come to you, my lad. But warily tent when you come to court me, An' comena unless the back yett be a-jee, Syne up the back stile, an' let naebody see, An' come as ye werena coroin' to me, An' come as ye werena comin' to me. O whistle, &c. At kirk or at market whene'er you meet me, Gang bve me as tho' that ye caredna a flee; But steal mc a blink o' your bonnie black e'e, Yet look as ye werena lookin' at me, Yet look as ye werena lookin' at me. whistle, &c Aye vow an' protest that ye carena for me, An' whiles ye may lichtly my beauty a wee} But court na anither, tho' jokin' ye be, For fear that ye wile your fancy frae me, For fear that ye wile your fancy frae me. whistle, man, An' twere na for the lasses, O ! Gi'een grow the rashes, O ! Green grow the rashes, 0! The sweetest hours that e'er I spent, Were spent amang the lasses, 1 The warly race may riches chase, An' riches still may flee them, ! £p' though at last they catch them fast, «7!heir hearts can ne'er enjoy them, 1 " Green grow the rashes, &c. Gie me a cannie hour at e'en, My arms about my dearie, 0! An warly cares an' warly men May a' gae tapsal-teerie, 0! Green grow the rashes, Sec. For you sae douce wha sneer at thh Ye're nocht but senseless asses, o! The wisest man the warl e'er saw He dearly lo'ed the lasses, ! ' Green grow the rashes, <£c. Auld Nature swears the lovelv dears Her noblest work she classe's, ! Her 'prentice han' she tried on' man An' then she made the lasses, O ! ' Green grow the rashes, &c. fi!Y LOVE, SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET. Author unknovTi. My love, she's but a lassie yet; My love, she"s but a lassie yet: I'll let her stand a year or twa'j She'll no be half so saucy yet. I rue the day I sought her, O; I rue the day I sought her, 0; Wha gets her, needna say he's woo'd; But he may say he's bought her, 0. My love, she's but, &c. It's up the haughs o' Clvde I've been, And round the Kelvin side I've beeu: But a' the airts I ever gaed, I ne'er saw siccan pride I ween. My love, she's but, &c. I'll no gang yonder twice again, To ane so wond'rous nice again ; My bonnie lass ye'll wait awhile, Or e'er I speer your price again. My love, she's but, &c. OH WHERE, TELL ME WHERE. On where, tell me where is your Highlaud laddie gone? Oh where, tell me where is your Highland laddie gone ? He's gone with streaming banners, where noble deeds are done, And it's oh in my heart, I wish him safe at home. Oh where, tell me where did your Highland laddie dwell? Oh where, tell me where did your Highland laddie dwell? He dwelt in bonnie Scotland, where blooms the sweet blue bell, And it's oh in my heart I lo'e my laddie well. Oh what, tell me what does your Highland laddie wear? Oh what, tell me what does your Highland laddie wear? A bonnet of the Saxon green, and on his breast a plaid, And it's oh in my heart I lo'e my Highland lad. Oh what, tell me whatifyourHighlandlad be slain? Oh what, tell me what if your Highland lad be slain ? Oh no! true love will be his guard and bring him safe again, For it's oh my heart would break if my Highland lad were slain. B * 42 THE LEA RIG. Words by Robert Ferguson and William ReiDi Will ye gang o'er the lea rig, My ain kind dearie, O; And cuddle there fu' kindly, Wi' me, my kind dearie, O ! At thorny bush, or birken tree, We'll daff, and never weary, O, They'll scug ill een frae you and mo, My ain kind dearie, 0. Nne herds wi' kent or colly there, Shall ever come to fear ye, O ; But laverocks whistling in the air, Shall woo, like me, their dearie, 0. While ithers herd their lambs and ewes, And toil for warld's gear, my jo,, Upon the lea my pleasure grows Wi' thee my kind dearie, 0. At gloamin', if my lane I be, Oh, but I'm wondrous eerie, 0; And mony a heavy sigh I gi'e, < When absent frae my dearie, 0. But seated 'neath the milk-white thorn, In evening fair and dearie, 0, Enraptur'd a' my cares I scorn, When wi' my kind dearie, 0. Where through the birks the burnie rowa Aft ha'e I sat fu' cheerie, O, Upon the bonnie greensward howec, Wi' thee, my kind dearie, 0. I've courted till I've heard the craw Of honest chanticleerie, O, Tet never miss'd my sleep ava, When wi' my kind dearie, O. For though the night were ne'er sae dai& 9 And I were ne'er sae weary, 0, I'd meet thee on the lea rig, My ain kind dearie, O. While in this weary world of wae, This wilderness sae dreary, O, What maks me blythe, and keeps me sae? 'Tis thee, my kind dearie, 0. I LO'E THE HILLS OF SCOTLAND. Words by L. M'Cormick. I lo'e the hills of Scotland, May her thistle proudly wave, The emblem of my native land, The motto of the brave. Thy sons shall guard thy rocky skorea From every hostile band, And in the cause of liberty Shall aye the foremost stand. I lo'e the hills, &c. Where is the heart that wadna warm To hear o' Scotland's weal? The name alone it breathes a charm Her sons shall ever feel. I lo'e the hills, &c. Thy sons, though far in ither climes, Still mind the happy spot; The noisy brook, the silver stream, And ivy covered cot. I lo'e the hills, &c. Home of my youth— my fond desira Shall o'er the waters glide, For aye auld Scotland shall be free, Free as the swelling tide. J lo'e the hills, &c THE JOLLY BEGGAR. Words by King James V. There was a jolly beggar, and a begging he was bouu', And he took up his quarters into a land'art toun. And we'll gang nae mair a-roving, a-roving in the niffht, And we'll gang nae mair a-roving, let the moon shine e'er sae bright. And we'll gang nae mair a-roving. He wad neither lay in barn, nor yet wad he in byre, But in a-hint the ha' door, or else afore the fire. And we'll gang, &c. The beggar's bed was made at e'en, wi'guid clean straw and hay, And in a-hint the ha' door, and there the beggar lay. And we'll gang, &c. Up raise the guidman's dochter, and for to bar the door, And there she saw the beggar standin' i' the floor. And we'll gang, &c. He took a horn frae his side, and blew both loud and shrill, And four-and-twenty belted knights came skip- ping o'er the hill. And we'll gang, &c And he took out his little knife, loot a' his dud- dies fa', And he was the brawest gentleman that was amang them a'. And we'll gang, &c. KELVIN GROVE. ,Words by T. Lyle, Surgeon, Glasgow. Let us haste to Kelvin Grove, bonnie lassie, O, Through its mazes let us rove, bonnie lassie, O; AVhere the rose in all her pride, Paints the hollow dingle side, Where the midnight fairies glide, bonnie lassie, Let us wander by the mill, bonnie lassie, 0. To the cove beside the rill, bonnie lassie, 0. Where the glens rebound the call Of the lofty water-fall, TO. Through the mountain's rocky hall, bonnie lassie, Though I dare not call thee mine, bonnie lassie, 0, As the smile of fortune's thine, bonnie lassie, ; Yet were fortune on my side, I could stay thy father's pride, And might win thee for my bride, bonnie lassie, 0. For the frowns of fortune lower, bonnie lassie, 0, On thy lover at this hour, bonnie lassie, 0; Ere the golden orb of day Wakes the warblers on the spray, From this land I must away, bonnie lassie, 0. Then farewell to Kelvin Grove, bonnie lassie, 0, And adieu to all 1 love, bonnie lassie, 0,— To the river winding clear, To the fragrant scented brier, Ev'n to thee, of all most dear, bonnie lassie, O. And when on a distant shore, bonnie lassie, O, Should I fall, midst battle's roar, bonnie lassie, ; Wilt thou, Ellen, when you hear Of thy lover on his bier, To his memory shed a tear, bonnie lassie, ? 43 O DINNA ASE ME GIN I LO'E YE. O dinna ask me gin I lo'e ye, Deed I daurna tell ; Dinna ask me gin I lo'e ye, Ask it o' yoursel. dinna look sae sair at me, For weel ye ken me true ; gin ye look sae sair at me, I daurna look at you. When ye gang to yon braw, braw town, And bonnier lasses see, O dinna, Jamie, look at them, Lest ye should mind na me : For I could never bide the lass That ye lo'e mair than me; And 0! I'm sure my heart would break, Gin ye proved fause to me. CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN, There's cauld kail in Aberdeen, And custocks in Stra 'bogie, Whaur ilka lad maun hae his lass, But I maun hae my cogie. For I maun h£e my cogie, sirs, I canna want my cogie ; I wadna gie my three-girr'd cog, For a' the wives in Bogie. There's Johnny Smith has got a wife, Wha scrimps him o* his cogie ; But were she mine, upon my life, I'd dook her in a bogie. For I maun hae my cogie, sirs, I canna want my cogie ; I wadna gie my three girr'd cc;;, For a' the wives in Bogie. FEE HIM, FATHER, FEE HIM. Author unknown. Saw ye Johnnie comin', quo' she, Saw ye Johnnie comin'; Saw ye Johnnie comin', quo' she, Saw ye Johnnie comin.' Saw ye Johnnie comin', quo she, Saw ye Johnnie comin'; Wi' his blue bonnet on his head, And his doggie rinnin', quo* she, And his doggie rinnin' ? Fee him, father, fee him, quo' she, Fee him, father, fee him ; Fee him, father, fee him, quo' she, Fee him, father, fee him ; For he is a gallant lad, And a weel doin' ; And a' the wark about the house, Gaes wi' me when I see him, quo' she, Gaes wi' me when I see him. What will I do wi' him, hizzie ? Vv'hat will I do wi' him ? He's ne'er a sark upon his back, And I hae nane to gie him. 1 hae twa sarks into my kist, And ane o' them I'll gie him; And for a merk o' mair fee, Dinna stand wi' him, quo' she, Dinna stand wi' him. For weel do I lo'e him, quo' she, "Weel do I lo'e him ; For weel do I lo'e him, quo' shOj Weel do I lo'e him. fee him, father, fee him, quo' she, Fee him, father, fee him ; He'll haud the pleugh, thrash in the barn, And crack wi* me at e'en, quo she, And crack wi' me at e'en. O! JEANIE, THERE'S NAETHING TO FEAR TE. ! jit lassie, our joy to complete again, Meet me again in the gloamin', my dearie ; Low down i' the dell let us meet again, O ! Jeanie, there's naething to tear ye- Come when the wee bat flits silent an' eerie, Come when the pale face of nature looks weary, Love be thy. sure defence, ; Beauty and innocence — ! Jeanie, there's naething to fear ye. Sweetly blaws the haw an* the rowan tree,' Wild roses speck our thicket so brierie ; Still, still will our bed in the greenwood be — ' O ! Jeanie, there's naething to fear ye; Note when the blackbird o' singing grows weary, List when the beetle-bee's bugle comes near ye j Then come with fairy haste, Light foot and beating breast — ! Jeanie, there's naething to fear ye. Far, far will the bogle and brownie be ; .: . Beauty and truth they darena come near it-* Kind love is the tie of our unity — A' maun love it, an' a maun revere it. Love maks the sang o' the woodlands sae cheerie, Love gars a' nature look bonnie that's near ye; Love makes the rose sae sweet, Cowslip and violet — 1 Jeanie, there's naething to fear ye. A ROSEBUD BY MY EARLY WALK. Words by Bukns. ! A rosebud by my early walk, Adorcn a corn-enclosed bawk, Sae gently bent its thorny stalk, All on a dewy morning. Ere twice the shades o' dawn are fled, In a' its crimson glory spread, And drooping rich the dewy head, It scents the early morning. Within the bush, her covert nest A little linnet fondly prest ; The dew sat chilly on her breast, Sae early in the morning. She soon shall see her tender brood, The pride, the pleasure o' the wood, Amang the fresh green leaves bedew'd, Awake the early morning. So thou, dear bird, young Jeanie fair ! On trembling string, or vocal air, Shall sweetly pay the tender care That tends thy early morning. So thou, sweet rosebud, young and gay, Shall beauteous blaze upon the day, And bless the parent's evening ray- That watch'd thy early morning. A FAMOUS MAN WAS ROBIN HOOD. Words by Wordswoeth, A famous man was Robin Hood, The English ballad singer's joy ; But Scotland has a chief as good, She has, she has her bold Rob Roy. u A dauntless heart Macgregor shows, And wond'rous length and strength of arm ; He long had quell'd his Highland foes, And kept, and kept his friends from harm. This daring mood protects him still, For this the robber's simple plan, That they should take who have the will, And they, and they should keep who can. And while Rob Roy is free to vove, In summer's heat and winter's snow, The eagle he is lord above, And Rob, and Rob is lord below. DAINTY DAVIE. Word3 by Burns. Now rosy May comes in wi' flow'rs, To deck her gay green-spreading bow'rs ; An' now come in my happy hours, To wander wi' my Davie. Meet me on the warlock knowe, Dainty Davie, dainty Davie 1 There I'll spend the day wi' you, My ain dear dainty Davie I The crystal waters round us fa', The merry birds are lovers a', The scented breezes round us blaw, Awandering wi' my Davie. Meet me on the warlock knowe, &o. When purple morning starts the hare, To steal upon her early fare ; Then thro' the dews I will repair To meet my faithfu' Davie. Meet me on the warlock knowe, &0. When day, expiring in the west, The curtain draws o' Nature's rest, I'll flee to his arms I lo*e best, And that's my dainty Davie. Meet me on the warlock knowe, &e. MARRY FOR LOVE AND WORK FOR SILLER. When I and my Jenny thegither were tied, We had but sma' share o' the world between us; Yet lo'ed ither weei, and had youth on our side, And strength and guid health were abundantly gi'en us ; I warsled and toiled through the fair and the foul, And she was ngnt carefu' o' what I brought till her, For aye we had min' o' the canny auld rule- Just " marry for love and work for siller." Our bairns they cam' thick— we were thankfu' for that, Forthebitandthebrattiecam'ayealangwi'them-, Our pan was exchanged for a guid muckle pat, And, somehow or ither, we aye had to gi'e them. Our laddies grew up, $nd they wrought wi' myseP, Ilk atfe T gat as buiruly and stout as a miller, Our lasses^they keepit us trig aye and hale, And now we can count a bit trifle o' siller. But I and my Jenny are baith wearin' down, And our lads and our lasses hae a' gotten married, Yet see, we can rank wi' the best i' the town, Though our noddles we never owre haughtily carried. And mark me— I've now got a braw coekit hat, And in our civic building ».n reckon'd a pillar, Is na that a bit honour for ane to get at, Wha married for love and wha wrought fo» siller? KIND ROBIN LO'ES MB. Words by Bdens. Robin is my only jo, Robin has the art to lo'e ; So to his suit I mean to bow, Because I ken he lo'es me. Happy, happy was the show'r That led me to his birken bow'r, Where first of love I fand the pow'r, And kenn'd that Robin lo'ed me. He's tall and sonsy, frank and free, Lo'ed by a', and dear to me ; Wi' him I'd live, wi' him I'd die, Because my Robin lo'es me. Then fly ye lazy hours away, And hasten on the happy day, When, "join your hands," Mess John shall And mak' him mine that lo'es me. [say, THERE GREW IN BONNIE SCOTLAND. There grew in bonnie Scotland a thistle and a brier, And aye they twined and clasped, like sisters kind and dear ; The rose it was sae bonnie, it could ilk bosom charm ; The thistle spread its thorny leaves, to keep the rose from harm. A bonnie laddie tended the rose baith aire and late, He watered it, he fanned it, he wove it with his fate ; And the leal hearts of Scotland prayed it might never fa', The thistle was sae bonnie green, the rose sae lika the snaw. But the weird sisters sat where hope's fair emblem grew, They drapt a drap upon the rose o' bitter blasting dew; And aye they twined the mystic thread, but ere their task was done The snaw-white rose it disappeared, it withered in the sun. A bonnie laddie tended the rose baith aire and late, He watered it, he fanned it, and wove it wi' his fate; But the thistle tap it withered, winds bore it far awa', And Scotland's heart was broken for the rose sao like the snaw. BLITHE WAS SHE. Words by Burns. Blithe, blithe, and merry was she, Blithe was she but and ben ; Blithe by the banks of Erne, And blithe in Glenturit glen. By Oughtertyre grows the aik, On Yarrow braes the birken shaw; But Phemie was a bonnier lass Than braes o' Yarrow ever saw. Blithe, blithe, &c. Her looks were like a flower in May— Her smile was like a simmer mom j She tripped by the banks of Erne As light's a bird upon a thorn. Blithe, blithe, e town, And danced awa wi' the Exciseman And ilka wife cries, "Auld Mahoun, I wish you luck o' the prize man ! " The deil's awa, the deil's awa, The deil's awa wi' the Exciseman} He's danced awa, he's danced awa, He's danced awa wi' the Exciseman* Well male our maut, we'll brew our drink, We'll dance, and sing, and rejoice, man; And mony braw thanks to the meikle black deil That danced awa wi' the Exciseman. The deil's awa, the deil's awa, The deil's awa wi' the Exciseman; He's danced awa, he's danced awa, He's danced awa wi' the Exciseman. There's threesome reels, there's foursome reels There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man; But the ae best dance e'er cam to the land Was, the deil's awa wi' the Exciseman. The deil's awa, the deil's away, The deil's awa wi' the Exciseman, He's danced awa, he's danced awa, He^s danced awa wi' the Exciseman* 48 tflLL YE GO TO THE INDIES, MY MARY^ Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary, And leave auld Scotia's shore ? ■^Jfill ye go to the Indies, my Mary, Across the Atlantic's roar ? Oh sweet grow the lime and the orange, And the apple on the pine; But a' the charms o' the Indies Can never equal thine. I hae sworn by the Heavens to my Mary, I hae sworn by the Heavens to be trucj And sae may the Heavens forget me, When I forget my vow ! Oh plight me your faith, my Mary, And plight me your lily-white hand; Oh plight me your faith, my Mary, Before I leave Scotia's strand. "Wo hae plighted our troth, my Mary,'' In mutual affection to join; An- 1 curst be the cause that shall part usl The hour and the moment o' time ! BRAW LADS O' GALLA WATER, Braw, braw lads, on Yarrow braes, Ye wander through the blooming heather; But Yarrow braes, nor Ettrick shaws, Can match the lads o' Galla water. But there is ane, a secret alie, Aboou them a' I lo'e him better 9 An' I'll be his, and he'll be mine, The bonnie lad o' Galla water. Altho* his daddie was nae laird, An' tho' I hae na meikle tocher, Yet rich in kindest, tru«fc love, We'll tent our flocks ^y Galla water. It ne'er was wealth, it ne'er was wealth, That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure; The bands and bliss o' mutual love, 1 that's the warld's chiefest treasure. THIS IS NO MY AIN LASSIE. this is no my ain lassie, Fair tho' the lassie be; weel ken I my ain lassie, Kind love is in her e'e. I see a form, I see a face, Ye weel may wi' the fairest place; It wants, to me, the witching grace, The kind love that's in her e'e. this is no, &c. Sbe's bonnie, blooming, straight, and tall, And lang has had my heart in thrall; And aye it charms my very saul, The kind love that's in her e'e. O this is no, &c. A thief sae pawkie is my Jean, To steal a blink by a' unseen; But gleg as light are lovers' e'en, When kind love is in the e'e. this is no, &c. It may escape the courtly sparks, It may escape the learned clerks; But weel the watching lover mark* The kind love that's in her e'e. O this is no, &c. MEG 0' THE MILL. Oh ken ye what Meg o' the mill has gotten $ And ken ye what Meg o' the mill has gotten? She has gotten a coof wi' a claut o' siller, And broken the heart o' the barley miller. The miller was strappin', the miller was ruddy; A heaT;t like a lord, and a hue like a lady : The laird was a widdiefu', bleerit knurl : She's left the guidfellow and taen the churl. The miller he hecht her a heart leal and loving, The laird did address her wi' matter more moving, A fine pacing horse wi' a clear chained bridle, A whip by her side and a bonnie side-saddle. Oh wae on the siller, it is sae prevailing ! And wae on the love that is fixed on a mailen! A tocher's nae word in a true lover's parle, But gie me my love, and a fig for the warl! I HAE A WIFE 0' MY AIN. I hae a wife o' my ain, I'll partake wi' naebody; I'll tak' cuckold frae nane, I'll gie cuckold to naebody. I hae a penny to spend, There — thanks to naebody; I hae nae thing to lend — I'll borrow frae naebody. I am naebody's lord — I'll be a slave to naebody; I hae a guid braid sword, I'll tak' dunts frae naebody, I'll be merry and free, 1*11 be sad for naebody; If naebody care for me, I'll care for naebody. HIGHLAND MARY.' Ye banks and braes, and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flower3| Your waters never drumlie 1 There simmer first unfalds her robes, And there the langest tarry I For there I took the last farewell 0' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birkf How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours, on angel wings, Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light — as life — Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace, Our parting was fu' tender; And pledging aft to meet again, We tore ourselves asunder. But, oh ! fell death's untimely frost, That nipt my flower sae early ! Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay, That wraps my Highland Mary ! pale, pale now those rosy lips, I aft ha'e kiss'd sae fondly ! And closed for aye the sparkling glance That dwelt on me sae kindly ! And mouldering now in silent dust That heart that lo'ed me dearly ! But still within my bosom's core $hall live my Highland Mary. 40 F ROM THEE, ELIZA, I MUST GO. From thee, Eliza, 1 must go, And from my native shore, The cruel fates between us throw A boundless ocean's roar. But boundless oceans roaring wide, Between my love and me; They never, never can divide My heart and soul from thee. Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear, The maid that I adore ! A boding voice is in mine ear. We part to meet no more. But the last throb that leaves my heart, While death stands victor by, That throb, Eliza, is thy part, And thine that latest sigh. JOCKEY'S TA'EN THE PARTING KI^S Jockey's ta'en the parting kiss, O'er the mountains he is gane; And with him is a' my bliss, Nought but griefs with me remain. Spare my love, ye winds that blaw, Plashy sleets and beating rain! Spare ray love, thou feathery snaw, Drifting o'er the frozen plain. When the shades of evening creep O'er the day's fair, gladsome e'e, Sound and safely may he sleep, Sweetly blythe his waukening be! He will think on her he loves, Fondly he'll repeat her name: For where'er he distant roves, Jockey's heart is still at hamd* UP IN THE MORNING EARLY. Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west The drift is driving sairly; Sae loud and shrill's 1 hear the blast, I'm sure it's winter fairly. Up in the morning's no for me, Up in the morning early ; When a' the hills are covered wi' snaw, I'm sure it's winter fairly. The birds sit chittering on the thorn, A' day they fare but sparely; And lang's the nicht from e'en to morn, I'm sure it's winter fairly. Up in the morning's no for me, Up in the morning early; When a' the hills are covered wi' snaw, I'm sure it's winter fairly. in WIFE'S A WINSOME WEE THING. She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonnie wee thing, This sweet wee wife o' mine. I never saw a fairer, I never lo'ed a dearer, And neist my heart I'll wear hcr^ For fear my jewel tine. She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonnie wee thing, ^ This sweet wee wife o' mine. The warld's wrack we share o't, The warstle and the care o : t t Wi' her 111 blythely bear it, And think my lot divine. WAE IS MY HEART. Wae is my heart, and the tear's in my e'e| Lang, lang, joy's been a stranger to me: Forsaken and friendless, my burden I bear, And the sweet voice o' pity ne'er sounds in my ear. Love, thou hast pleasures, and deep ha'e I loved; Love, thou hast sorrows, and sair ha'e I proved ; But this bruised heart that now bleeds in my breast, I can feel its throbbings will soon be at rest. Oh, if I were happy, where happy I ha'e been, Down by yon stream, and yon bonnie castle green; For there he is wandering, and musing on me, Wha wad soon dry the tear frae Phillis's e'e. WANDERING WILLIE. Here awa\ there awa', wandering Willie, Here awa', there awa', hsud awa' hame; Come to my bosom, my ain only dearie, Tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the same. Winter inds blew loud and cauld at our parting, Fears for my Willie brought tears in my e'e; Welcome now simmer, and welcome my Willie; The simmer to nature, my Willie to me. Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave of yonr slumbers, How y ur dread howling a lover alarms ! Wauken, ye breezes, row gently, ye billows, And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms. But oh ! if he's faithless and minds na his Nannie, Flow still between us, thou wide roaring main; May I never see it, may I never trow it, But, dying, believe that my Willie's my ain. WILLIE WASTLE. Willie Wastle dwelt on Tweed, The spot they called it Linkum-doddie| Willie was a wabster guid, Could stown a clue wi' ony body. He had a wife was dour and din, Oh Tinkler Madgie was her mither ; Sic a wife as Willie had, I wadna gi'e a button for her. She has an e'e, she has but ane, The cat has twa the very colour; Five rusty teeth forbye a stump, A clapper tongue wad deave a miller t A whiskin' beard about her mou', Her nose and chin they threaten ither • Sic a wife as Willie had, I wadna gi'e a button for her. She's bow-houghed, she's hein-shinned, Ae limpin' leg a hand-breed shorter; She's twisted right, she's twisted left, To balance fair in ilka quarter: She has a hump upon her breast, The twin o' that upon her shouther; Sic a wife as Willie had, I wadna gi'e a button for her. Anld baudrons by the ingle sits, And wi' her loof her face a-washin'f But Willie's wife is nae sae trig, She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion$ Her walie nieves like midden-creels, Her face wad fyle the Logan Water; Sic a wife as Willie had, I wadna gi'e a button for her. 50 MY NANNIE'S AWA*. Now in her green mantle blythe nature arrays, And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er the braes, While birds warble welcome in ilka green sbaw ; Lut to me it's delightless— my Nannie's awa'. The snawdrop and primrose our woodlands adorn, And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn; They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw, They mind me o' Nannie— and Nannie's awa'. Thou lav'rock that springs frae the dews of the lawn, The shepherd to warn o' the gray breaking dawn; And thou mellow mavis that hails the night -fa', Give over for pity — my Nannie's awa'. Come, autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and gray, And sooth me wi' tidings o' nature's decay ; The dark dreary winter, and wild driving snaw, Alane can delight me, now Nannie's awa*. HOW CAN I EE BLYTHE AND GLAD. Oh how can I be blythe and glad, Or how can I gang brisk and braw, When the bonnie lad that I lo'e best Is owre the hills and far awa'? When the bonnie lad that I lo'e best Is owre the hills and far awa' ? It's no the frosty winter wind, It's no the driving drift and snawj But aye the tear comes in my e'e, To think on him that's far awa'. But aye the tear comes in my e'e. To think on him that's far awa. THE PARTING. Ae fond kiss, and then we sever, Ae farewell, and then for ever ! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. Who shall say that fortune grieves him, While the star of hope she leaves him ? But nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me, Dark despair around benights me. Ae fond kissf I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy; But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never lov'd sae kindly, Had we never lov'd sae blindly, Never met, or never parted, W T e had ne'er been broken-hearted. Ae farewell! Fare*thee-well! thou first and fairest, Fare-thee-well ! thou best and dearest, Thine be ilka joy and treasure, Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure. Ae fond kiss, and then we sever, Ae farewell, alas 1 for ever; Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thco, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. Fare-thee-well I HERE'S A HEALTH TO ANE I LO'E DEAR. Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear, Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear; Thou art sweet as the smile when kind lovers meet, And saft as their parting tear, Jessie I Altho' thou maun never be mine, Alt ho' even hope is denied; 'Tis sweeter for thee despairing, Than ought in the world beside— Jessie? I mourn thro' the gay gaudy day, As hopeless I muse on thy charms ; But welcome the dream o' sweet slumber, For then I am lock'd in thy arms— Jessie! I guess by the dear angel smile, I guess by the love-rolling e'e; But why urge the tender confession, 'Gainst fortune's fell cruel decree— Jessie! THERE'S A YOUTH IN THIS CITY. There's a youth in this city, it were a great pity That he frae our lasses should wander awa'; For he's bonnie and braw, weel favoured, and a', And his hair has a natural buckle and a'. His coat is the hue of his bonnet sae blue; His fecket is white as the new-driven snaw; His hose they are blae, and his shoon like the slae, And his clear siller buckles they dazzle us a'. For beauty and fortune the laddie's been courtin', Weel -featured, weel-tocher'd, weel-mounted, and braw; $ut chiefly the siller, that gars him gang till her, The penny's the jewel that beautifies a'. There's Meg wi' the mailen that fain would a-hacn him, And Susie, whose daddie was laird o' the ha'; There's lang-tocher'd Nancy maist fetters his fancjft But the laddie's dear sel' he lo'es dearest of a'. LASSIE WP THE LINT-WHITE LOCUS. Lassie wi' the lint-white locks, Bonnie lassie, artless lassie, Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks, Wilt thou be my dearie, O ? Now nature deeds the flowery lea, And a' is young and sweet like thee; O wilt thou share its joys wi' me, And say thou'lt be my dearie, 0? Lassie wi', &c. And when the welcome simmer-shower Has cheer 'd ilk drooping little flower, We'll to the breathing woodbine bower, At sultry noon, my dearie, 0. Lassie wi', &c. When Cynthia lights, wi' silver ray, The weary shearer's hameward way; Thro' yellow waving fields we'll stray, And talk o' love, my dearie, 0. Lassie wi', &c. And when the howling wintry blast, Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest, Enclasped to my faithfu' breast, I'll comfort thee, my dearie, O. Lassie wi', &c. AULD ROB MORRIS. There's auld Rob Morris, that wons in yon glen, He's the king o' guid fellows, and wale o' auld men, He has gowd in his coffers, he has sheep, he has kine, And ae bonnie lassie, his darling and mine. 51 She's fresh as the morning, the fairest in May; She's sweet as the ev'ning among the new hay: As blythe and as artless as the lamb on the lea, And dear to my heart as the light o' my e'e. But, oh, she's an heiress, and Robin's a laird, And my daddie has nought but a cothouse and yard ; A wooer like me canna hope to come speed ; The wounds I maun hide which will soon be my dead. The day comes to me, but delight brings me nane ; The night comes to me, but my rest it is gane; I wander my lane like a night-troubled ghaist, And I sigh as my heart it wad burst in my breast. Oh had she but been of a lower degree, [ then might hae hop*d she wad smil'd upon me! 0, how past describing had then been my bliss, As now my distraction no words can express ! LET ME IN THIS AE NIGHT. O, lassie, art thou sleepin' yet? Or art thou waukin', I would wit ? For love has bound me hand and fit, And I would fain be in, jo. O, let me in this ae night, This ae night, this ae night; For pity's sake this ae night, O, rise and let me in, jo. Out o'er the moss, out o'er the muir, 1 cam' this dark and dreary hour; And here I stand without the door, Amid the pouring storm, jo. 0, let me in this ae night, 4o. 'fhou hear'st the winter wind and wcet, Nae star blinks through the driving sleet; Tak' pity on my weary feet, And shield me frae the rain, jo. 0, let me in this ae night, &c. The bitter blast that round me blaws, Unheeded howls, unheeded fa's; The cauldness o' thy heart's the cause 0' a' my grief and pain, jo. 0, let me in this ae night, &c I WINNA LET YOU IN, JO. ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING. TELL ca me o' wind and rain, Upbraid na me wi' cauld disdain, Gae back the gate ye cam' again, I winna let you in, jo. I tell you now, this ae nighty This ae, ae, ae night; And ance for a', this ae night, I winna let you in, jo. The ^nellest blast, at mirkest hours, That round the pathless wand'rer pours, Is nought to what poor she endures, That's trusted faithless man, jo. I tell you now, this ae night, &o> The sweetest fiow'r that deck'd the mead, Now trodden like the vilest weed; , Let simple maid the lesson read, * The weird may be her ain, jo. I tell you now, this ae night, 4c The bird that eharm'd his simmer dayj Is now the cruel fowler's prey; Let witless, trusting woman say How aft her fate's the same, jo. I tell you now, this ae night, &c. OH WHAIS SHE THAT LOES ME? Oh wha is she that Iocs me, And has my heart a- keeping? Oh sweet is she that loes me, As dews o' simmer weeping, In tears the rose-buds steeping! Oh that's the lassie o' my heart, My lassie ever dearer; Oh that's the queen o' womankind And ne'er a ane to peer her. If thou shalt meet a lassie In grace and beauty charming, That e'en thy chosen lassie, Erewhile thy breast sae warming, Had ne'er sic powers alarming. If thou hadst heard her talking, And thy attentions plighted, That ilka body talking, But her by thee is slighted, And thou art all delighted. If thou hast met this fair one, When frae her thou hast parted} If every other fair one, But -jer, thou hast deserted, And tnou art broken-hearted ; Oh that's the lassie o' my heart, My lassie ever dearer ; Oh that's the queen o' womankind And ne'er a ane to peer her. RATTLIN', ROARIN' WILLIE. O rattlin', roarin' Willie, O he held to the fair; An' for to sell his fiddle, • An' buy some other ware. But. parting wi' his fiddle, The saut tear blin'd his e'e; And rattlin', roarin' Willie, Ye're welcome hame to me. Willie, come sell your fiddle, sell your fiddle sae fine; O Willie, come sell your fiddle, An' buy a pint o' wine. If I should sell my fiddle, The warl' wad think I was mad ; For many a rantin' day, My fiddle an' I hae had. As I cam' by Crochallan, 1 cannily keekit ben ; And wha should I see but Willie, Sittin' at yon board en' : Sittin' at yon board en', An' aman# guid companie j O rattlin', roarin' Willie, Ye're welcome hame to me. 1 LO'ED NE'ER A LADDIE BUT ANE. Words by Hacneil. Am.— « My lodging is on the cold ground. ' I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane, He lo'ed ne'er a lassie but me; He's willing to mak me his ain, And his ain I'm willing to be; He has coft me a rockelay o' blue, And a pair o' mittins o' green; The price was a kiss o' my mou, And I paid him the debt yestreen. Let ithers brag weel o' their gear, Their land and their lordlie degree; I carena for aught but my dear, For he's ilka thing lordlie to me ; His words are sae sugar'd, sae sweet ! His sense drives ilk fear far awa : I listen— poor fool 1— and I greet, Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa' I 52 O, TIBBIE, I HA'E SEEN THE DAY. 0, Tibbie, I ha'e seen the day Ye wadna been sae shy; For lack o' gear ye lightly me, But troth I carena by. Yestreen I met you on the moor, Yc spak' na, but gaed by like stoure; Ye geek at me because I'm poor, But feint a hair care I. 0, Tibbie, &c. I doubt na, lass, but ye may think, Because ye ha'e the name o' clink, That ye can please me at a wink, Whene'er ye like to try. O, Tibbie, &c. But sorrow tak' him that's sae mean, Although his pouch o' coin were clean, Wha follows ony saucy queen That looks sae proud and high. O, Tibbie, &c. Although, a lad were e'er sae smart, If that he want the yellow dirt, Ye'll cast your head anither airt, And answer him fu' dry. ©, Tibbie, &c. But if he ha'e the name o* gear, Ye'll fasten to him like a brier. The' hardly he for sense or lear Be better than the kye. O, Tibbie, Ac. But, Tibbie, lass, tak' my advice,— Your daddie's gear maks you sae nice, The de'il a ane wad speir your price Were ye as poor as I. 0, Tibbie, &c. There lives a lass in yonder park, I wadna gie her in her sark, For thee, wi' a' thy thousand mark— Ye needna look sae high. 0, Tibbie, &c. HEY FOR A LASS WF A TOCHER. Awa 1 wi' your witchcraft o' beauty's alarms, The slender bit beauly you grasp in your arms; Oh, gie me the lass that has acres o' charms, Oh, gi'e me the lass wi' the weel-stockit farms. CH0RU3. Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher, then hey for a lass wi' a tocher, Then hey for a lass wi' a tocher— the nice yellow guineas for me. Your beauty's a flower in the morning that blow* And withers the faster, the faster it grows ; But the rapturous charm o' the bonuie green knowes, Ilk spring they're new deckit wi'bonnie white yowes. And e'en when this beauty your bosom has blesi; The brightest o' beauty may cloy when possest; But the sweet yellow darlings wi' Geordie im* press'd, The langer ye ha'e them, the mair they're caress'd. POORTITH CAULD. Oh poortith cauld, and restless lovo Ye wreck my peace between ye; Yet poortith a' I could forgive, An 'twere na for my Jeanie. Oh why should fate sic pleasure have, Life's dearest bands untwining? Or why sae sweet a flower as love Depend on fortune's shining? This warld's wealth when I think on Its pride, and a' the lave o't; Fie, fie, on silly coward man, That he should be the slave o't. Oh why, &c. Her e'en sae bonnie blue betray How she repays my passion; But prudence is her o'erword aye, She talks of rank and fashion. Oh why, &c. Oh wha can prudence think upon, And sic a lassie by him ; Oh wha can prudence think upon, And sae in love as I am; Oh why, &c. How blest the humble cottar's fate He woos his simple dearie; The silly bogles, wealth and state, Can never mak' them eerie. Oh why, &c. LOGAN WATER. © Logan, sweetly didst thou glido, That day I was my Willie's bride; And years sinsyne hae o'er us run, Like Logan to the simmer sun. But now thy flowery banks appear Like drumlie winter, dark and drear, While my dear lad maun face his faes, Far, far frae me and Logan braes. Again the merry month of May Has made our hills and valleys gay; The birds rejoice in leafy bowers, The bees hum round the breathing flowers; Blythe morning lifts his rosy eye, And evening's tears are tears of joy: My soul delightless a' surveys, While Willie's far frae Logan braes. Within yon milk-white hawthorn bush Amang her nestlings sits the thrush; Her faithfu' mate will share her toil, Or wi' his song her cares beguile. But I wi' my sweet nurslings here, Nae mate to help, nae mate to cheer, Pass widowed nights and joyless days, While Willie's far frae Logan braes. ! wae upon you men o' state, That brethren rouse to deadly hate I As ye mak' mony a fond heart mourn, Sae may it on your heads return ! How can your flinty hearts enjoy The widow's tears, the orphan's cry ? But soon may peace bring happy daya, And Willie name to Logan braes I 53 SHE'S FAIR AND FAUSE. She's fair and fause that causes my smart, I lo'ed her meikle and lang; She's broken her vow, she's broken my heart, And I may e'en gae hang. A coof cam in wi' routh o' gear, And I hae tint my dearest dear; But woman is but warld's gear, Sae let the bonnie lassie gang. Whae'er ye be that woman love, To this be never blind, Nae feriie 'tis though fickle she prove, A woman has't by kind. Oh woman, lovely woman fair ! An angel form's fa'n to thy share, 'Twad been owre meikle to gien thee mair, I mean an angel mind. THE GALLANT WEAVER. Where Cart rins rowin' to the sea. By mony a flow'r and spreading tree, There lives a lad, the lad for me, He is a gallant weaver. Oh, I had wooers eight or nine, They gied me rings and ribbons fine; And I was fear'd my heart would tine. And I gied it to the weaver. My daddie sign'd my tocher-band, To gie the lad that has the land; But to my heart I'll add my hand, And gie it to the weaver. While birds rejoice in leafy bowers, While bees delight in op'ning flow'rs. While corn grows green in summer showers, I'll love my gallant weaver. BONNIE JEAN. There was a lass, and she was fair, At kirk and market to be seen; When a' the fairest maids were met, The fairest maid was bonnie Jean. And aye she wrought her mammie's wavk, And aye she sang sae merrilie ; The blythest bird upon the bush, Had ne'er a lighter heart than she. But hawks will rob the tender joys That bless the little lint- white's nest, And frost will blight the fairest flower, And love will break the soundest rest. Young Robie was the brawest lad, The flower and pride of a' the glen; And he had owsen, sheep, and kye, And wanton naggies nine or ten. He gaed wi' Jeanie to the tryste, He danced wi' Jeanie on the down; And lang ere witless Jeanie wist, Her heart was tint, her peace was stowa. As in the bosom of the stream The moonbeam dwells at dewy e'en, 60 trembling, pure, was tender love Within the breast o' bonnie Jean. Ana now she works her mammie's wark, And aye she sighs wi' care and pain; Tet wistna what her ail might be, Or what wad mak' her weel again. But didna Jeanie's heart loup light, And didna joy blink in her e'e, As Robie tauld a tale o' love, Ae e'ening on the lily lea? The sun was sinking in the west, The birds sang sweet in ilka grove, His cheek to hers he fondly prest, And whisper'd thus his tale 0' love :-— " 0, Jeanie fair, I lo'e thee dear ! 0, canst thou think to fancy me ? Or wilt thou leave thy mammie's cot, And learn to tent the farms wi' me? " At barn or byre thou shalt na drudge, Or naething else to trouble thee, But stray amang the heather bells, And tent the waving corn wi' me." Now what could artless Jeanie do ? She hadna will to say him na; At length she blush'd a sweet consent, And love was aye between them two. BONNIE WEE THING. Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing. Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, I wad wear thee in my bosom, Lest my jewel I should tine. Wistfully I look and languish In that bonnie face 0' thine; And my heart it stounds wi' anguish, Lest my wee thing be na mine. Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing. Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, I wad wear thee in my bosom, Lest my wee thing I should tine. Wit and grace, and love and beauty In ae constellation shine ; To adore thee is my duty, Goddess o' this soul o' mina. MY SPOUSE, NANCY. "Husband, husband, cease your strifjj Nor longer idly rave, sir; Tho' I am your wedded wife, Yet I am not your slave, sir.'* " One of two must still obey, Nancy, Nancy ; Is it man, or woman, say, My spouse, Nancy ?" II If 'tis still the lordly word, Service and obedience; I'll desert my sov'reign lord, And so good-bye allegiance ! n " Sad will I be, so bereft Nancy, Nancy, Yet I'll try to make a shift, My spouse, Nancy." "My poor heart then break it must, My last hour I'm near it : When you lay me in the dust, Think, think how you will bear it. " I will hope and trust in heaven, Nancy, Nancy, Strength to bear it will be given, My spouse, Nancy." " Well, sir, from the silent dead, Still I'll try to daunt you; Ever round your midnight be1 Horrid sprites shall haunt you." " I'll wed another like my dear, Nancy, Nancy; Then all hell will fly for feaT t My spouse, Nancy." 54 CANST THOU LEAVE ME THUS, MY KATY? Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy ? Canst thou leave me thus, my Katy? Well thou know'st my aching heart, And canst thou leave me thus for pity ? Is this thy plighted, fond regard, Thus cruelly to part, my KatyP Is this thy faithful swain's reward, An aching, broken heart, my Katy? Farewell ! and ne'er such sorrows tear That fickle heart of thine, my Katy ! Thou may'st find those will love thee dear, But not a love like mine, my Katy. THE REPLY. Stay, my Willie— yet believe me, Stay, my Willie — yet believe me, For ah ! thou know'st na every pang Wad wring my bosom shouldst thou leave mo. Tell me that thou yet art true, An' a' my wrongs shall be forgiven, An' when this heart proves fause to thee, Yon sun shall cease its course in heaven. But to think I was betrayed, That falsehood e'er our loves should sunder! To take the flow'ret to my breast, An' find the guilefu' serpent under. Could I hope thou'dst ne'er deceive, Celestial pleasures, might I choose 'em, I'd slight, nor seek in other spheres That heaven I'd find within my bosom. Stay, my Willie — yet believe me, Stay, my Willie — yet believe me, For, ah ! thou know'st na' every pang Wad wring my bosom shouldst thou leave me. OH, GIN MY LOVE WERE YON RED ROSE, Oh, gin my love were yon red rose That grows upon the castle vva'; And I mysel' a drap o' dew, Into her bonnie breast to fa'! Oh there, beyond expression blest, I'd feast on beauty a' the night! Seal'd on her silk-saft faulds to rest, Till fley'd awa' by Phoebus' light. Oh, were my love yon lilac fair, Wi' purple blossoms to the spring, And I a bird to shelter there, When wearied on my little wing; How I wad mourn, when it was torn By autumn wild and winter rude ! But I wad sing on wanton wing When youthfu' May its bloom renew'd. <30W LANG AND DREARY IS THE NIGHT. How lang and dreary is the night, When I am frae my dearie ! I restless lie frae e ; en to morn, Though I were ne'er sae weary. For oh ! her lanely nights are lang, And oh ! her dreams are eerie, And oh ! her widow'd heart is sair, That's absent frae her dearie. When I think on the lightsome days I spent wi' thee, my dearie, And now what seas between us roar, How can I but be eerie? How slow ye move, ye heavy hours The joyless day how dreary ! It wasna sae ye glinted by, When I was wi' my dearie. HEY, THE DUSTY MILLER. Hey, the dusty miller, and his dusty coat; He will win a shilling, or he spend a groat. Dusty was the coat, dusty was the colour, Dusty was the kiss that I got frae the miller. Hey, the dusty miller, and his dusty sack; Lceze me on the calling fills the dusty peck: Fills the dusty peck, brings the dusty siller j 1 wad gi'e my coatie for the dusty miller, THE BRAES 0' BALLOCHMYLE. The Catrine woods were yellow seen, The flowers decay'd on Catrine lea, Nae laverock sang on hillock green, But nature sicken'd on the e'e. Through faded groves Maria sang, Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while, And aye the wild- wood echoes rang, Fareweel the braes o' Ballochmyle! Low in your wintry beds, ye flowers, Again ye'll flourish fresh and fair; Ye birdies dumb, in withering bowers, Again ye'll charm the vocal air : But here, alas ! for me nae mair Shall birdie charm, or flower't smile; Fareweel the bonnie banks of Ayr, Fareweel, fareweel! sweet Ballochmyle THOU HAST LEFT ME EVER, JAMIE. Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, Thou hast left me ever; Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, Thou hast left me ever. Aften thou hast vow'd that death Only should us sever; Now thou'st left thy lass for aye— I maun see thee never, Jamie, I maun see thee never. Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie, Thou hast me forsaken. Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie, Thou hast me forsaken. Thou canst love anither jo, While my heart is breaking; Soon my weary een I'll close, Never mair to waken, Jamie, Never mair to waken. 'TWAS NA HER BONNIE BLUE E'E WAS MY RUIN. 'Twas na her bonnie blue e'e was my ruin ; Fair though she be, that was ne'er my undoing; 'Twas the dear smile when naebody did mind us, 'Twas the bewitching, sweet, stown glance o' kind- ness. Sair do I fear that to hope is denied me, Sair do I fear that despair maun abide me; But though fell fortune should fate us to sever, Queen shall she be in my bosom for ever. Mary, I'm thine wi' a passion sincerest, And thou hast plighted me love o' the dearest! And thou'rt the angel that never can alter, Soonpr the sun in his motion would falter, 55 MY AIN KIND DEARIE, O. When o'er the hill the eastern star Tells bughtin' time is near, my jo; An' owsen frae the furrow'd field Return sae dowf an' weary, ; Down by the burn, where scented birks Wi' dew are hanging clear, my jo, I'll meet thee on the lea rig, My ain kind dearie, 0. In mirkest glen, at midnight hour, I'd rove, an' ne'er be eerie, 0, If thro' that glen I gaed to thee, My ain kind dearie, 0. Altho' the night was ne'er sae wild, An' I were ne'er sae wearie, 0, I'd meet thee on the lea rig, My ain kind dearie, 0. The hunter lo'es the morning sun, To rouse the mountain deer, my jo J At noon the fisher seeks the glen, Along the burn to steer, my jo; Gi'e me the hour o' gloamin' gray, It mak's my heart sae cheery, 0, To meet thee on the lea rig, My ain kind dearie, 0. BONNIE LESLEY. saw ye bonnie Lesley, As she gaed o'er the border? She's gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther* To see her is to love her, And love but her for ever; For nature made her what she i% And never made anither ! Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, Thy subjects we, before thee: Thou art divine, fair Lesley, The hearts o' men adore thee. The de'il he couldna scaith thee, Or aught that wad belang thcoj He'd look into thy bonnie face, And say, I canna wrang thee ! The powers aboon will tent thee, Misfortune shanna steer thee; Thou'rt like themselves sae lovely ! That ill they'll ne'er let near thea. Return again, fair Lesley; Return to Caledonie ! That we may brag we hae a lass There's nane again sae bonnie. CRAGIEBURN WOOD. Sweet fa's the eve on Cragieburn, And blythe awakes the morrow; But a' the pride o' spring's return Can yield me nought but sorrow. I see the flowers and spreading trees, I hear the wild birds singing; But what a weary wight can please And care his bosom wringing ? Fain, fain wad I my griefs impart, Yet darena for your anger; But secret love will break my heart) If I conceal it langer. If thou refuse to pity me, If thou shalt love anither, When yon green leaves fade frae the trcc^ Around my grave they'll wither YOUNG JOCKEY. Young Jockey was the blythest lad In a' our town or here awa'; Fu' blythe he whistled at the gaud, Fu' lightly danced he in the ha'. He roosed my een, sae bonnie blue, He voosed my waist, sae gently sraa', And aye my heart came to my mou' When ne'er a body heard or saw. My Jockey toils upon the plain, [snaw: Through wind and weet, through frost and And o'er the lea I look fu' fain, When Jockey's owsen hameward ca\ And aye the night comes round again, When in his arms he takes me a',. And aye he vows he'll be my ain, As lang's he has a breath to draw. BLYTHE HAE I BEEN ON YON HILL, * Bltthe hae I been on yon hill, As the lambs before me: Careless ilka thought and free, As the breeze flew o'er me : Now nae longer sport and play, Mirth or sang can please me; Lesley is sae fair and coy, Care and anguish seize me. Heavy, heavy is the task, Hopeless love declaring : Trembling, I do nought but glow'r, Sighing, dumb, despairing ! If she winna ease the thraws In my bosom swelling, Underneath the grass-green sod, Soon maun be my dwelling. WELCOME, ROYAL CHARLIE. welcome, Charlie, owre the main; Our Highland hills are a' your ain; Thrice welcome to our isle again, Our gallant royal Charlie I Auld Scotia's sons, 'mang heather hills, Can, fearless, face the warst of ills, For kindred-fire ilk bosom fills, At sight of royal Charlie. Her ancient thistle wags her pow, And proudly waves o'er hill and knowe, To hear our pledge and sacred vow, To live or die wi' Charlie. but ye've been lang o' coming, Lang o' coming, lang o' coming; but ye've been lang o' coming; Welcome royal Charlie. We daurna brew a peck o' maut, But Geordie aye is finding faut; We canna mak' a pickle saut, For want o' royal Charlie. Then up and quaff', along wi' me, A bumper crown'd wi' ten times three, To him that's come to set us free; Huzza for royal Charlie 1 but ye've, &c. From a' the wilds o' Caledon, We'll gather every hardy son, Till thousands to his standard run, And rally round Prince Charlie. Come let the flowing quech go round, And boldly bid the pibroch sound, Till every glen and rock resound The name o' royal Charlie 1 welcome, Charlie, owre the main; Our Highland hills are a' your ain; Thrice welcome to our isle agaiu i Qui- gallant royal Charlie 1 56 falEN THE KING COMES OWRE THE WATER Written by Lady Mary Drummond. I may sit in my wee croo-house, At the rock and the reel to toil fu' dreary; I may think on the days that's gane, And sigh and sab till I grow weary. I ne'er could brook, I ne'er could brook, A foreign loon to own or flatter; But I will sing anither sang That day our king oomes owre the water. gin I live to see the day, That I ha'e begg'd, and begg'd frae heaven, I'll fling my rock and reel away, And dance and sing frae morn till even: For there is ane I winna name, That comes the reigning bike to scatter; And I'll put on my bridal gown That day our king comes owre the water. 1 ha'e seen the guid auld day, The day o' pride and chieftain glory, When royal Stuarts bore the sway, And ne'er heard tell o' whig nor tory. Though lyart be my locks, and grey, And eild has crook'd me down — what mattez? I'll dance and sing ae ither day, That day our king comes owre the water. A curse on dull and drawling whig, The whining, ranting, low deceiver, Wi' heart sa© black, and look sae big, And canting tongue o' clishmaclaver! My father was a good lord's son, My mother was an earl's daughter; Ami I'll be Lady Keith again, That day our king comes owre the watery THIS IS NO MY AIN HOUSE. this is no my ain house, 1 ken by the biggin' o't ; For bow-kail thrave at my door-cheek. And thristles on the riggin' o't. . A carle came wi' lack o' grace, WT unco gear and unco face, And sin' he claim'd my daddie's place, I downa bide the trigging' o't. this is no, «fcc. "Wi' routh o' kin and routh o' reek, My daddy's door it wadna steek ; But bread and cheese were his door-cheel^ And girdle-cakes the riggin' o't. this is no, vVHA'LL BE KING BUT CHARLIE. The news frae Moid art cam' yestreen Will soon gar mony ferlie; That ships o' war hae just come in, And landed royal Charlie! Come through the heather, around him gather, Ye're a* the welcomer early : Around him cling wi' a' your kin; For wha'll be king but Charlie ? Come through the heather, around him gather, Come Ronald, come Donald, come a' thegither j And crown your rightfu' lawfu' King, For wha'll be king but Charlie? The highland clans, wi' sword in hand, Frae John o' Groat's to Airly, Hae to a man declar'd to stand, Or fa', wi' royal Charlie. Come through the heather, &c. There's ne'er a lass in a' the land, But vows baith late and early; To man she'll ne'er gie heart or hand, Wha wadna fecht for Charlie. Come through the heather, 4c. Then hero's a healtn to Charlie's causo, And be't complete and early; His very name my heart's blood warms ; To arms for royal Charlie! Come through the heather, <£c. OVER THE SEA. Over the sea, over the sea, Hear what a little bird whispered to mo, Over the sea, over the sea, Somebody's coming ere long. Then march, march, march, Ye lads of the heather, come trooping together, Come march, march, march, Gallant hearts, valiant and strong. 0, its over the sea, over the sea, Hear what a bonnie bird whispered to mo, < Over the sea, over the sea, Somebody's coming ere long. Qver the sea, over the sea, Too long my laddie has wander'd frae mo, Over the sea, over the sea, Now he is coming once more. Then we'll march, march, march, To greet him once more on his own native strand, Let us march, march, march, And bear him in triumph along. 0, its over the sea, over the sea, Hear what a bonnie bird whispered to me^ Over tho sea, over the sea, Charlie is coming once more. 59 WlIAT'S A' THE STEER KIMMER? W hat's a the steer, kimmer ? What's a' the steer ? Charlie he is landed, And haith he'll soon be here. The win' was at his back, carle, The win' was at his back, I carena since he's come, carle, We werna worth a plack. I'm right glad to hear't, kimmer, I'm right glad to hear't; I hae a gude braid claymore, And for his sake I'll wear't. Sin' Charlie he is landed, We hae nae mair to fear; Sin' Charlie he is landed, We'll hae a jub'lee year. BRUCE'S ADDRESS. Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory. Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front of battle lour : See approach proud Edward's power, Chains and slavery ! Wha will be a traitor knave P Wha can fill a coward's grave ? Wha sae base as be a slave ? Let him turn an' flee ! Wha, for Scotland's king and law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw* Freeman stand, or freeman fa , Let him on wi' me! By oppression's woes and pains ! By our sons in servile chains ! We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be free ! Lay the proud usurpers low ' Tyrants fall in every foe ! Liberty's in every blow ! Let us do, or die ! IF/S OWRE THE HILLS THAT I LO'E WEEL, He's owre the hills that I lo'e weel, He's owre the hills we daurna name, He's owre the hills ayont Dumblane, Wha soon will get his welcome hame. My faith er's gane to fight for him, My brithers winna bide at hame, My mither greets and prays for them, And 'deed she thinks they're no to blame. He's owre the hills, &c. The whigs may scoff and the whigs may jeer ; But, ah 1 that love maun be sincere, Which still keeps true, whate'er betide, An' for his sake leaves a' beside. He's owre the hills, Ac. His right these hills, his right these plains ; O'er Highland hearts secure he reigns. What lads e'er did our lads will do ; Were I a lad I'd follow him too. He's owre the hills, &c. Sae noble a look, sae princely an air, Sae gallant and bold, sae young anefsae fair ; 1 did you but see him, ye'd do as we've done J Hear him but ance, to his standard you'd run. He's owre the hills, &c. THE STANDARD ON THE BRAES 0* MARIU The Standard on the braes o' Marr, Is up and streaming rarely ; The gathering pipe on Lochnagar, Is sounding loud and sairly. The Hielandmen frae hill and glen, Wi' belted plaids and glitt'ring blades ; Wi' bonnets blue, and hearts sae true, Are coming late and early. I saw our chief come o'er the hill, Wi' Drummond and Glengany, And through the pass came brave Lochicl, Panmure, and gallant Murray. Macdonald's men, Clanronald's men, Mackenzie's men, Macgilvray's men ; Strathallan's men, the Lowland men, 0' Callander and Airley Our prince has made a nobie vow, To free his country fairly ; Then wha would be a traitor now, To ane we lo'e sae dearly ? We'll go, we'll go, to seek the foe, By land or sea, where'er they be ; Then man to man, and in the van, We'll win, or die for Charlie. CHARLIE IS MY DARLING 0, Charlie is my darling, My darling, my darling ; 0, Charlie is my darling ; The young Chevalier 1 Twas on a Monday morning, Richt eai*ly in the year, That Charlie cam' to our towi^ ' The young Chevalier. As he cam' marching up tiie street, The pipes play'd loud and cleai', And a' the folk cam' rinnin' out To meet the Chevalier. Wi' Highland bonnets cock'd ajee, And braidswords shining clear, They cam' to fight for Scotland's right And the young Chevalier. They've left their bonnie Highland hills, Their wives and bairnies dear, To draw their sword for Scotland's lord, The young Chevalier. Ohl there were mony breathing hearts, And mony hopes and fears. And mony were the prayers put up For the young Chevalier. THERE GROWS A BONNIE BRIER BUSH, Old Song, altered by Burns. There grows a bonnie brier bush in our kail-yard ; And white are the blossoms o't in our kail-yard, Like wee bit white cockades for our loyal Hieland lado And the lasses lo'e the brier bush in our kail-yard. But were they a' true that are far awa' ? Oh I were they a' true that are far awa' ? They drew up wi' glaiket Englishers at Carlisle ha', And forgot auld frien's when far awa'. Yell come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye hae been ; Ye'll come nae mair, Jamie, where aft ye hae been ; Ye lo'ed owre weel the dancin' at Carlisle ha', And forgot the Hieland hills that were far awa'. He's comin' frae the north that's to fancy me, He's comin' frae the north that's to fancy me, A feather in his bonnet, and a ribbon at his knee, He's a bonnie Hieland laddie, and you be na he. 60 THE GALLANT MONTROSE. Tire gallant Montrose has his pennon unfurl'd, liis foot in the stirrup, his face to the world; Ue spurs to the Highlands his liege men to bring, And marshal his clans to the aid of the king. Up, up, and away, in battle or fray, Be the deeds of your fathers remember' d to-day. Up, up, and away, in battle or fray, Be the deeds of your fathers remember'd to-day. The pibroch is sounding o'er forest and fell, The clang of the claymore is heard in the dell ; Five thousand blue bonnets are seeking the foes, Of bonnie Prince Charles and the gallant Montrose. Up, up, and away, &c. There's strife in the Lowlands, the Campbells are nigh, Argyll and the covenant ; hark to the cry : The trumpets ring shrill o'er the waters of Forth, The Graham is upon them, like hail from the north. Up, up, and away, &c. The haughty Argyll to his stronghold has fled, The flower of the Campbells lies stricken and dead ; So true to his king, and so stout to his foes, 1 where is the lord like the Lord of Montrose. Up, up, and away, &c. WHA'S FOR SCOTLAND AND CHARLIE1 wha's for Scotland and Charlie? wha's for Scotland and Charlie ? He's come o'er the sea To his ain countrie, Now wha's for Scotland and Charlio ? Awa', avva', auld carlie, Awa', awa', auld carlie, Gi'e Charlie his crown, And let him sit down, "Whare ye've bee" 1 sae lang. auld cariio. It'3 up in the morning early, It's up in the morning early, The bonnie white rose, The plaid and the hose Are on for Scotland and Charlie. The swords are drawn now fairly, The swords are drawn now fairly ; The swords they are drawn, And the pipes they hae blawn A pibroch for Scotland and Charlie. The flags are fleein' fu' rarely, The flags are fleein' fu' rarely, And Charlie's awa' To see his ain ha', And to bang his faes right sairly. Then wha's for Scotland and Charlie? wha's for Scotland and Charlie? He's como o'er the sea To his ain countrie, Then wha's Cor Scotland and Charlie ? THE LAMENT OF FLORA MACDONALD, Fai*. over yon hills of the heather so green, And down by the corrie that sighs to the sea, The bonnie young Flora sat sighing her lane, The dew on her plaid, and tho tear in her e'o. She looked at a boat with tho breezes that swung, Away on the wave, like a bird of the main ; And, aye as it lessen'd, she sighed and she sung, Farewell to the lad I shall ne'er see again ; Farewell to my hero, the gallant and young, Farewell to the lad I shall ne'er see again. The muircock that craws on the brow of Ben-Connal, He kens o' his bed in a sweet mossy hame ; The eagle that soars o'er the cliff's of Clan-Ronald, Unaw'd and unhaunted, his eyrie can claim ; The solan can sleep on his shelve of the shore, The cormorant roost on his rock of the sea ; But oh ! there is one whose hard fate I deplore : Nor house, ha', nor hame in this country has he. The conflict is past, and our name is no more ; There's nought left but sorrow for Scotland and mo. The larget is torn from the arm of the just, Th Come boat me o'er, come row me o'er, Come boat me o'er to Charlie ; 111 gi'e John Ross another bawbee, To boat me o'er to Charlie. We'll o'er the water and o'er the sea, We'll o'er the water to Charlie ; Come weal, come woe, we'll gather and gjj And live or die wi' Charlie. I lo'e weel my Charlie's name, Though some there be abhor him ; Put oh, to see auld Nick gaun hame, And Charlie's faes before him! We'll o'er the water, £a I swear and vow by moon and stars, And sun that glances early, If I had twenty thousand lives, I'd die as aft for Charlie. We'll o'er the water, £3. KENMURE'S ON AND AWA'. On Kenmure's on and awa', Willie ! Oh Kenmure's on and awa'! And Kenmure's lord's the bravest lord That ever Galloway saw. Success to Kenmure's band, Willie I Success to Kenmure's band ; There's no a heart that fears a Whig, That rides by Kenmure's hand. Here's Kenmure's health in wine, Willie! Here's Kenmure's health in wine ; There ne'er was a coward o' Kenmure's bluid, Nor yet o' Gordon's line. Oh Kenmure's lads are men, Willie ! Oh Kenmure's lads are men : Their hearts and swords are metal truo, And that their foes shall ken. They'll live or die wi' fame, Willie 1 They'll live or die wi' fame ; But soon, wi' sound o' victorie, May Kenmure's lord come hamo. Here's him that's far awa', Willie 1 Here's him that's far awa'! And here's tne flower that I love boci» The rose that's like the sn&w J THE RIDING MARE. My daddy had a riding mare, And she was ill to sit, And by there came an unco loon, And slippit in his fit. Ho set his fit into the st'rup And gripped sickerly; And aye sinsync, my dainty ma*^ She flings aud glooms at mo. 61 This thief he fell and brain'd himself And up gat couthy Anne ; She gripped the mare, the riding gear, And halter in her han' : And on she rade, and fast she rade, O'er necks o' nations three ; Feint that she ride the aiver stiff, Sin she has geck'd at me. The Whigs they ga'e my Auntie drapa That hasten'd her away, And then they took a cursed oath, And drank it up like whey : Then they sent for a bastard race, Whilk I may sairly rue, And for a horse they've got an ass, And on it set a sow. Then hey the ass, the dainty ass, That cocks aboon them a' ! And hey the sow, the dainty sow, That soon will get a fa' ! The graith was ne'er in order yet, The bridle wasna worth a doit ; And mony ane will get a bite, Or cuddy gangs awa. IT WAS A' FOR OUR RIGHTFU' KIN& It was a' for our rightfu' king We left fair Scotland's strand, It was a' for our rightfu' king We e'er saw Irish land, my dear, We e'er saw Irish land. Now a' is done that men can do, And a' is done in vain ; My love, my native land, farewell, For I maun cross the main, my dear, For I maun cross the main. He turned him right, an" round aboul, Upon the Irish shore, An' ga'e his bridle-reins a shake, With, Adieu, for evermore, my dear, Adieu, for evermore. The sodger frae the wars returns, The sailor frae the main ; But I ha'c parted frae my love, Never to meet again, my dear, Never to meet again. When day is gane, an' night is come, An' a' folk bound to sleep ; I think on him that's far awa', The lee-lang night, and weep, my dear, The lecVlang night, and weep. LCONS, YE MAUN GAE HAME. here awa,' there awa,' how they did rin; en they saw the clans march, and in earnest begin J here awa', there awa', how they did fiee, en they heard that Prince Charlie was come owre the sea, ,'s loons, ye maun gae hame. y got to their feet, just as sure as a gun, ene'er they heard Charlie to Scotland was come, ■aste, haste ye awa','' quo the auld wives wi' gleoj joy to the day Charlie cam' owre the sea." n' loons, ye maun gae hame. igs, fare ye a' weel, ye may scamper awa,* haith here nae langer ye'll whip an' ye'll ca'j mair look on Scotland wi' lightlifu' e'e, Charlie at last has come over the sea. n' loons, ye maun gae hame. lang Scottish miles they will tire ye right sair» aiblins, in mosses and bogs ye will lair; rest an' oe thankfu' gin hame yc may see, ie ye that Charlie has come owre the sea, n' loons, ye maun gae hame. CALLUM O'GLEN. Was ever old warrior of suff ring so weary ? Was ever the wild beast so bayed in his dent The Southron bloodhounds lie in kennel so near me, That death would be welcome to Callum O'Glen. My sons are all slain, and my daughters have left mo, No child to protect me, where once I had ten ; My chief they have slain, and of stay have bereft, me. And woe to the gray hairs of Callum OGlen. The homes of my kinsmen are blazing to Heaven, The bright sun of morning has blushed at the view The moon hath stood still on the verge of the even, To wipe from her pale cheek the tint of the dew. For the dew it lies red on the vales of Lochaber, It sprinkles the cot and it flows in the pen ; The pride of my country is fallen for ever, death hast thou no shaft for Callum O'Glcn. The sun in his glory has looked on our sorrow, The stars have wept blood over hamlet and lea; i) is there no day-spring for Scotland ? no morrow Of bright renovation for souls of the free ! Yes 1 One above all has beheld our devotion, Our valour and faith are not hid from his ken ; The day is abiding, of stern retribution On all the proud foemen of Callum O'Glen. PRINCE CHARLES'S FAREWELL TO FLORA. The voice of the spirit of tempest is near, love, Lo ! heartless misfortune has struck the last blow , where are the souls of the brave I revere, love ; where, where my joy when from Flora I go. Farewell to my bright dreams of fame, love, and glory 5 Farewell bonnie Highlands, still dear, dear to me ; Farewell to my lost love, my soul's dearest Flora, My last sigh I'll give to dear Scotland and thee. Sound, sound is the sleep of the brave 'neath the willow— Beneath the proud flag that in battle they bore ; But, alas ! for the dream on my lightning-rent pillow, When love hath departed and hope is no more. When haunted by foemen and soul-clouding sadness, Homeless and hopeless, by traitors oppressed — When stung by the storms ot misfortune to madness, sweet were the dreams that I dream't on your breast. Now welcome, ye dark stormy clouds that benight me, Welcome ye ghosts of the good and the brave : The pibroch's loud summons no more can delight me, My song be the wild winds that sweeps their lone grave. See, see yon proud eagle through stormy clouds soaring, How fearless the flight of the wing that is free : Such joy may be mine, love, when Heaven restoring The land I lo'e dear, and my Flora to me. THERE'LL NEVER BE PEACE TILL JAMIE COMES HAME. Written by Burns. By yon castle wa', at the close o' the day, I heard a man sing, though his head it was gray; And as he was singing the tears down came, There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. The Church is in ruins, the state is in jars, Delusions, oppressions, and murderous wars: We daurna weel say't, but we ken wha's to blame,— There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword, And now I greet round their green beds in the yird; It brak' the sweet heart o' my faithfu' auld dame, — There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. Now life is a burden that bowe me down, Since I tint my bairns, and he tint his crown; But till my last moments my words are the same,— There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. JOHNNIE COPE. Cope wrote a challenge frae Dunbar, " Come, fecht me Charlie, an' ye daur J An' 111 learn ye the art o' war, If you'll meet me i' the mornin'." Hey! Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin' yet? Or are your drums a-beating yet ? If ye were waukin' I wad wait, To gang to the coals i' the mornin' t When Chavlie look'd the letter upon He drew his sword the scabbard from ; *■ So heaven restore to me my ain, I'll meet ye, Cope, i' the mornin' I " Now Johnnie, be as gude as your word, Come, let us try baith fire and sword, And dinna rin awa' like a frighted bird, That's chas'd frae its nest i' the mornin'.* When Johnnie Cope he heard of this, He thought it wouldna be amiss To hae a horse in readiness, To flee awa' i' the mornin'. " Fie, now, Johnnie, get up and rin, The Highland bagpipes male' a din, It's best to sleep in a hale skin, For 'twill be a bluidy mornin'.* It was upon an afternoon Sir Johnnie march'd to Preston town : He says, " My lads, come, lean you down, An' we'll fight the boys i' the mornin'." But when he saw the Highland lads, Wi* tartan trews and white cockauds, Wi' swords, an* guns, an' rungs, an' gauds, O, Johnnie he took wing i' tho mornin'. So Johnnie into Berwick rade, Just as the deil had been his guide : Gien him the warld, he would na stay'cl I o fecht the lads i' the mornin'. When Johnnie Cope to Berwick came I hoy spiert o' him, " Where's a' your men?* J lie deil confound me gin I ken, For I left 'em a' i' the mornin'l" "Now, Johnnie, troth, ye are na blate, lo c^me wi' the news o' your ain defate, And leave your men in sic a strait, Sae early i' the mornin'." "Oh faith !" quo' Johnnie, « I got my flogs, If t f * ^ laymores ' an ' dirks, an' philabegs : It 1 lace them again, deil break my Jeo-s— So I wish you a very gude mornin' T THE BRAES 0' KILLIECRANKIE. Where ha'e ye been sae braw, lad, Where ha'e ye been sae brankie, 0; Where ha'e ye been sae braw, lad, Cam' ye by Killiecrankie, ? An* ye had been where I had been, Ye wadna be saa cantie, 0; An' ye had seen what I ha'e seen On the braes o' Killiecrankie, I've faught on land, I've faught at sea. At hame I faught my aunty, 0; But 1 met the deevil and Dundee On the braes o* Killiecrankio, 0. ' The bauld Pitcur fell in a fur, And Claver's got a clankie, 0; Or I had fed an Athole gled On the braes o' Killiecrankie, 0, 62 BANNOCKS 0' BEAR MEAL. Written by Burns. Bannocks o' bear meal, and bannocks o* barley Here's to the Highlandman's bannocks o' burl Wha in a brulzie will first cry a parley ? Never the lads wi' the bannocks o' barley. Bannocks o' bear meal, and bannocks o' barley; Here's to the Highlandman's bannocks o* barley. Wha in his wae days were loyal to Charlie ? Wha but the lads wi' the bannocks o' barley. Bannocks o' bear meal, and bannocks o' barley, Here's to the Highlandman's bannocks o' barley. O WHERE SHALL I GAE SEEK MY BREAD? where shall I gae seek my bread? Or where shall I gae wander? Or where shall I gae hide my head? For here I'll bide nae langer. The seas may row, the winds may blow, And swathe me round in danger; My native land I must forego, And roam a lonely stranger. The glen that was my father's own. Must be by his forsaken ; The house that was my father's homo Is levelled with the bracken. Ochon, ochon, our glory's o'er, Stole by a mean deceiver; Our hands are on the broad claymore, But the might is broke for ever. And thou, my prince, my injured prince, Thy people have disowned thee; Have hunted and have driven thee hence. With ruin'd chiefs around thee.. Though hard beset, when I forget Thy fate, young helpless- so ve», This broken heart shall cease to beat* And all its griefs be over. Farewell, farewell dear Caledon, Land of the Gael no longer; A stranger fills thy ancient throne, In guile and treachery stronger. Thy brave and just fall in the dust, On ruin's brink they quiver; Heav'ns pitying e'e is closed on theo, Adieu, adieu for ever. HAME, HAME, HAME. Hame, hame, hame, O hame fain would I be, Hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie; There's an eye that ever weeps, and a fair face will be fain As I pass through Annan water wi' my bonnie bands agaii When the flow'r is in the bud, and the leaf upon the tree, The lark shall sing me hame in my ain countrie. Hame, hame, hame, hame fain would I be, Hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie; The green leaf o' loyalty's beginning for to fa', The bonnie white rose it is witherin' and a' ; But I'll water't wi' the blood o' usurping tyrannio. And fresh it will felaw in my ain countrie. Hame, hame, hame, hame fain would I be, Hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie ; There's nought now from ruin my countrie can save^ But the keys o' kind heaven, to open the grave, That a' the noble martyrs, wha died for loyaltie. May rise again and fight for their ain countrie. Hame, hame, hame, hame fain would I be, Hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie; The great now are gane, wha attempted to save, The green grass now is growing aboon their bloody grave } Yet thesun through the mirk seems to promise to mo,— " I'll shine on ye yet in your ain countrie." GS TIIE LOVELY LASS 0» INVERNESS. The lovely lass o' Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e'en and morn she cries, alas ! And aye the saut tear blinds her e'o. Drummossie Muir, Drummossie day. A waefu' day it was to me, For there I lost my father dear, My father dear and brethren three. Their winding sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are growing green to see; And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman's e'e. Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord, A bluidy man I trow thou be, For mony a heart thou hast made sair That ne'er did wrang to thine or theo. CHARLIE, YE ARE WELCOME. rlie, ye are welcome, welcome, welcome, iarlie ye are welcome to Scotland and to me; re's some folk in yon town, yon town, yon town, lere's some folk in yon town,. I trow, that shouldna bo* rlie, we'll no name them, name them, name them, iarlie, we'll no name them — we ken wha they be; swords they are ready, ready, ready, xe swords they are ready, I trow, to mak' them fleo. -lie, ye'll get backing, backing, backing, iarlie, ye'll get backing, baith here an' owre the sea 5 clans are a' gath'ring, gath'ring, gath'ring, j 10 clans are a' gathering, to set their kintra free. rlie, 'tis the warning, warning, warning, iarlie, 'tis the warning we hear owre hill and lea; colours they are flying, flying, flying, KB colours tLey are flying, to lead to victorie. THE CHEVALIER'S MUSTER ROLL. Little wat ye wha's coming, Little wat ye wha's coming; Little wat ye wha's coming, Jock and Tam and a's coming. Duncan's coming, Donald's coming, Colin's coming, Ronald's coming; Dugald's coming, Lachlan's coming, Allister and a's coming. Little wat ye, &o. Borland and his men's coming, Cameron and M'Lean's coming; Gordon and M'Gregor's coming, Ilka Duny wastle's coming. Little wat ye, &o. M'Gillvary an' a's coming. Wigton's coming, Nithsdale's coming, Carnwarth's coming, Kenmure's coining} Derwentwater and Foster's coming, Withrington and Nairn's coming. Little wat ye, &c. Blythe Cowhill and a's coming. The laird of M'Intosh is coming, M'Crabbie and M 'Donald's coming; M'Kenzie and Pherson's coming, A' the wild M 'Craws' coming. Little wat ye, &c. Donald Gunn and a's coming They gloom, they glow'r, they look sae bigfc At ilka stroke they'll fell a Whig; They'll fright the fuds of the Pockpuds, For mony a buttock bare's coming. Little wat ye, &c. A' the Highland clans w^ coming. TIIE SUN RISES BRIGHT IN FRANCE ■Words by Allan Cunningham. TnE sun rises bright in Franco, And fair sets he ; But he has tint the blink he had In my ain countrie. I'ts no my ain ruin That weets aye my e'o, But the dear Marie I left behind Wi' sweet bairnies three. The bud comes back to summer, And the blossom to the tree, But I win back— oh, never, To ray ain countrie. Gladness comes to man} , Sorrow comes to me, As I look o'er the wide ocean To my ain countrie. Fu' bienly low'd my ain hearth, And smiled my ain Marie : Oh ! I've left my heart behind In my ain countrie ! I'm leal to high heaven, Which aye was leal to me ! And it's there I'll meet ye a' soon, Frae my ain countrie. CARLE, AN' THE KING COMB. Carle, an' the king come, Carle, an' the king come, Thou shalt dance, and I will sing, Carle, and the king come. An' so'mebodie were come again, Then somebodie maun cross the main, An' every man shall ha'e his ain, Carle, an' the king como. I trow we swappit for the warse, We ga e the boot and better homo, And that we'll tell them at the cross, Carle, an' the king come. When yellow corn grows on the rigs, And gibbets stand to hang the whigs, 0, then we'll a' dance Highland jigs, Carle an' the king come. Nae mair wi' pinch and drouth we'll dine, As we ha'e done— a dog's propine— But quaff our draughts o' rosy wine, Carle, an' the king come. Cogie, an' the king come, Cogie, an' the king come, I'se be fou, and thou'se be toom, Cogie, an' the king come. THE CHEVALIER'S LAMENT. Words by Burns. Tite small birds rejoice in the green leaves returning, The murmuring streamlet runs clear through the vale, The hawthorn trees blow in the dews of the morning, And wild scatter'd cowslips bedeck the green dale. But what can give pleasure, or what can seem fair, When the lingering moments are numbered by caro, No flowers gaily springing, Or birds sweetly singing, Can soothe the sad bosom of joyless despair. The deed that I dared could it merit their malice, ' A king and a father to place on his throne ; His right are those hills, and his right are these valleys, Where the wild beasts find shelter, but I can find non« But 'tis not my sufferings, thus wretched, forlorn, tly brave gallant friends, 'tis your ruin I mourn. Your deeds proved so loyal. In hot bloody trial, Alas 1 can I make it no better return, 64 HURRAH FOR THE BONNETS OF BLU& Here's a health to them that's awa, Here's a health to them that's awa, And wha winna wish guid luck to our cause, May never guid luck be their fa' It's guid to be merry and wise, It's guid to be honest and true; It's guid to support Caledonia's cause, And bide by the bonnets of blue. ITero's a health to them that's awa, Here's a health to them that's awa, Here's a health to Charlie, the chief o' the clan, Although that his band be sae sma\ Hurrah for the bonnets of blue, Hurrah for the bonnets of blue; It's guid to support Caledonia's cause, And bide by the bonnets of blue. Here's freedom to him that would read, litre's freedom to him that would write, There's nane ever fear'd that the truth should be iiaai'J, But they who the truth would indite. H urrah for the bonnets of blue, Hurrah for the bonnets of blue; It's guid to be wise, to be honest and true, A.nd bide by the bonnets of blue. PRINCE CHARLES'S LAMENT. The storm is raging o'er the Kyle, And o'er thy glen, dark Auchnacarry, Your Prince has travell'd many a mile, And knows not where to go or tarry. He sees, far in the vale below, The wounded soldier home returning; A: id those who wrought this day of woe, Are round yon w^tchfire dimly burning. Scotland lang shall rue the day She saw Culloden drench'd and gory; The sword the bravest hearts may stay, But some will tell the mournful story. Amidst those hills that are mine ain, I wander here a houseless stranger; With nought to shield me from the rain, And every hour beset with danger. Howl on, ye winds, the hills are dark, There shrouded in a gloomy covering ; Then haste thee o'er the sea, my bark, For blood-hounds are around me hov'rin^. Scotland, Scotland, fare-thee-well, Farewell ye hills, I dare not tarry; Let hist'ry's page my suff rings tell, Farewell ! Clanronald and Glengarry MY HARRY WAS A GALLANT GAY. Written by Burns. Mv Harry was a gallant gay, Fu' stately strode he o'er the plain; But now he's banish'd far away, I'll never see him back again. Oh, for him back again, Oh, for him back again; I wad gi'e a' Knockhaspie's land For Highland Harry back agaiiv When a' the lave gae to their bed, I wander dowie up the glen; I sit me down and greet my fill, And aye I wish him back again. Oh, for him back again, &c. O were some villains hangit high, And ilka oodie had their ain; Then I might see the joyful sight, My Highland Harry back again. Oh, for him back again, Wi E'en to the dark valley of death. Be kind to thy brother, his heart will have mirth, While he thinks he is not left alone; The flowers of feeling would fade at their birth, If the dew of affection were gone. Be kind to thy brother wherever you are, The love of a brother shall be An ornament purer and richer by far, Than pearls from the depth of the sea. Be kind to thy sister, not many may know The depth of true sisterly love; The wealth of the ocean lies fathoms below The surface that sparkles above. Be kind to thy father, once fearless and bold; Be kind to thy mother so near; Be kind to thy brother, nor show thy heart coldj Be kind to thy sister so dear. DO THEY MISS ME AT HOME ? Do they miss me at home, do they miss me ? 'Twould be an assurance most clear, To know that this moment some lov'd one, Were saying " I wish he were here." To feel that the group at the fireside Were thinking of me as I roam, Oh, yes, 'twould be joy beyond measure, To know that they miss'd me at home, To know that they miss'd me at home. When twilight approaches the season, That ever is sacred to song, Does some one repeat my name over, And sigh that I tarry so long I And is there a chord in the music, That's miss'd when my voice is away ; And a chord in each heart that awakcth Regret at my wearisome stay, Regret at my wearisome stay. Do they set me a chair near the table, When ev'ning's home pleasures are nigh, When the lights are bright in the parlour, And the stars in the calm blue sky. And when the Good-nights are repeated, And all lay them down to their sleep, Think they of the absent, and waft me A whisper'd Good-night while they weep, A whisper'dljrood-night while they weep Do they miss me at home, do they miss me, At morning, at noon, or at night, And lingers one gloomy shade round them, That only my presence can light? Are joys less invitingly welcome, Are pleasures less hale than before, Because one is miss'd from the circle, Because I am with them no more, Because I am with them no more ? WHAT IS HOME WITHOUT A MOTHER? What is home without a mother ? What are all the joys we meet, When her loving smile no longer Greets the coming, coming of our feet? The days seem long, the nights are drear, And time rolls slowly on ; And, oh, how few are childhood's pleasures, When her gentle, gentle care is gone. Things we prize are first to vanish; Hearts we love to pass away ; And how soon, e'en in our childhood, We behold her turning, turning grey. Her eyes grow dim, her step is slow, Her joys of earth are past; And sometimes ere we learn to know her, She hath breath'd on earth, on earth her iaab 71 Older hearts may have their sorrows, Griefs that quickly die away; But a mother lost in childhood, Grieves the heart, the heart from day to day. We miss her kind, her willing hand, Her fond and earnest care ; And, oh! how dark is life around us! What is home, without, without her there ? THE FOND HEARTS AT HOME. When I left the dear home of my fathers, And saw its 1)1 ue hills melt away, Young Hope chas'd the tears from mine eyelids, Like the night's dew in morning's bright ray. Stay, stay, said the lov'd ones at parting, Oh ! tempt not the wild ocean foam; It may be thou leav'st us for ever, Oh ! stay with *he fond hearts at home. It may be, &c. But dreams of the future allured me, Such dreams as young hearts only know, When the skies are all sunshine and glory, And this earth seems a heaven below. And swiftly my bark bore me onward, As gaily she dash'd through the foam, Far, far from the arms of my kindred, The true hearts, the fond hearts at home. Far, far, &c. Like the beautiful tints of the evening, My journey's bright dream soon was o'er ; I return'd to the home of my fathers, To the arms of my kindred once more. " Stay, stay," said the lov'd ones at meeting, " Oh! say though wilt never more roam ; " " If there's bliss," I replied, "in this wide worH, 'Tis found with the fond hearts at home." " If there's bliss," &c. THE DAYS WHEN WE WERE YOUNG. How happy in the days of youth Roll'd every hour away, When our hearts were light and faces bright, And all the world was gay ; When ev'ry cord within each breast To love and joy was strung, Oh! all was hope and happiness In the days when we were young, Oh ! all was hope and happiness In the days when we were young. CHORUS. Oh ! all was hope and happiness In the days when we were young. Oh! all was hope and happiness In the days when we were young. And sweet the flow'rs that deck'd our path, All nature's face look'd fair; While e'er abroad the world we trod, What lovely things were there. While o'er each view her gorgeous hue Fair fancy ever flung, Oh ! all was bright and beautiful In the days when we were young. Oh ! all was bright, &c. (Repeat Choruu Then friendship sweeter far than all, We thought could ne'er decay ; Nor friends belov'd who faithful prov'd Would ever pass away. Their voice was music to our ears, Upon their smiles we hung, Oh! all the loves and tender ties Of the days when we were young. Oh ! all the loves, &c. (Repeat Chorus.) ONCE UPON A TIME. Oh! who, when youth's enchanted hours, Like summer birds, have flown, Draws not, from mem'ry's perish'd flow'rs, A fragrance all their own? Sweet dreams of days long past, when w© Some friendly knee would climb, And listen to the wond'rous tales Of '• once upon a time," And listen to the wond'rous tales Of "once upon a time." CHORUS. And listen to the wond'rous talcs Of " once upon a time," And listen to the wond'rous talcs Of " once upon a time." We do not climb the bean-stalks now, Nor with old Sinbad sail; In iron ships the deep we plough, Out-strip the wind " by rail." Reality has chased romance, Gone has life's golden prime, For everything was possible In " once upon a time." And listen, &c. (Repeat Chorus.') And if we've sometimes cause to sigh In manhood's sterner hours, We, hand in hand with memory, Should tread life's path of flowers. The retrospect may gild the gloom Of sorrow's wintry clime, And make us prize the happiness Of " once upon a time." I WISH SOMEBODY'D COME. The flow'rs are blooming on the lawn, The birds are singing free, And everything is full of life And happiness but me ; The flow'rs look strangely dull to-day, They're shadowy as my dreams, And very lonely seem to me The sunlight's golden beams; As for the birds, I heed them not, They might as well be dumb, They cannot charm my heart to-day f I wish that somebody'd come, My voice is very bad to-day, I wish that somebody d come, I wish that somehody'd come. CHORUS. The flow'rs are blooming on the lawn, The birds are singing free, And everything is full of life And happiness but me. I've tried my books— my music too, I've tried it o'er and o'er; But, pshaw! I cannot see my notes, My eyes keep wand'ring so ; Unanswer'd notes before me lie, I'll count them, one, two, three; And here are letters waiting too, But what are they to me? My books are stale, my music too, Discordant as a drum, My voice is very bad to-day, I wish that somebody'd come. My voice, &c. (Repeat Chorus.) The sun is setting in the west, And twilight deepens now, And night comes forth, an ebon queen, With jewels on her brow ; n The cat is sleeping on the hearth, The bell has rung for tea, And not one living soul has come, What can the matter be? The day is gone, the night comes on, And I will look no more, There! Bettie, don't yo'- hear the bell, Somebody's at the door ! There! Bettie, &c. (Repeat Chorus.') WE ARE GROWING OLD TOGETHER. We are growing old together, thou dearest of the dear, [appear, The morning of our life is past, and ev'ning shades Some friends we loved are in their graves, and many are estrawg'd ; [never chang'd. But in sunshine or in shadow our hearts have We are growing old together, thou dearest of the dear! [appear. The morning of our life is past, and ev'ning shades CHORUS. We are growing old together, thou dearest of the dear, [shades appear. The morning of our life is past, and evening We are growing old together, the ivy and the tree, A fitting emblem is, dear, of the love 'twixt you and me, [our aim, To be worthy of each other in the past was all And 'tis pleasant now to know, dear, our hearts are still the same. We are growing old, &c. (Repeat Chorus.) HARD TIMES, COME" AGAIN NO MORE. Let us pause in life's pleasures and count its many tears, While we all sup sorrow with the poor ; There's a song that will linger for ever in our ears ; Oh ! hard times, come again no more. CHORUS. 'Tis the song, the sigh of the weary, Hard times, hard times, come again no more; Many days you have linger'd around my cabin door, Oh ! hard times, come again no more. While we seek mirth and beauty, and music light and gay, There are frail forms fainting at the door; Though their voices are silent, their pleading looks will say — Oh! hard times, come again no more. 'Tis the song,