THE BLUE-EYED LASSIE. I GAED a waefu' gate, yestreen, She talk'd, she smil'd, my heart she wyl'd, WILT THOU BE MY DEARIE? WILT thou be my dearie? When sorrow wrings thy gentle heart, And that's the love I bear thee! Only thou, I swear and vow, Lassie, say thou lo'es me; LUCY. O, WAT ye wha's in yon town, Now haply down yon gay green shaw, How blest ye birds that round her sing, And doubly welcome be the spring, The sun blinks blithe on yon town, And dearest bliss, is Lucy fair. Without my love, not a' the charms And welcome Lapland's dreary sky. My cave wad be a lover's bower, That I wad tent and shelter there. O, sweet is she in yon town, Yon sinking sun's gaen down upon; A fairer than's in yon town, His setting beams ne'er shone upon. If angry fate is sworn my foe, And suffering I am doom'd to bear; I careless quit all else below, But spare me, spare me, Lucy dear. For while life's dearest blood is warm, Ae thought frae her shall ne'er depart, And she-as fairest is her form, She has the truest, kindest heart. BLITHE PHEMIE. CHORUS. BLITHE, blithe and merry was she, Blithe by the banks of Ern, And blithe was she but and ben: By Oughtertyre grows the aik, On Yarrow banks the birken shaw; Than braes o' Yarrow ever saw. Her looks were like a flower in May, Her bonie face it was as meek The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet The Highland Hill's I've wander'd wide, That ever trod the dewy green. CHARMING NANNIE. BEHIND yon hills where Lugar flows, The westlin wind blaws loud an' shill; The night's baith mirk and rainy, O; But I'll get my plaid, an' out I'll steal, An' owre the hills to Nannie, O. My Nannie's charming, sweet, an' young; Her face is fair, her heart is true, A country lad is my degree, An' few there be that ken me, 0: But what care I how few they be, I'm welcome ay to Naunie, O. My riches a' 's my penny-fee, |