But woman, nature's darling child! O, had she been a country maid, Then pride might climb the slippery steep, Give me the cot below the pine, To tend the flocks or till the soil, And every day have joys divine With the bonny lass o' Ballochmyle. LXXXVII. TUNE-Laddie, lie near me. "TWASNA her bonnie blue ee was my ruin; Fair tho' 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 tho' fell fortune should fate us to sever, Queen shall she be in my bosom for ever. Mary, I'm thine wi' a passion sincerest, LXXXVIII. FAIR ELIZA. A GAELIC AIR. TUNE-The bonnie brucket Lassie. TURN again, thou fair Eliza; Ae kind blink before we part; Rew on thy despairing lover! Canst thou break his faithfu' heart? Turn again, thou fair Eliza! If to love thy heart denies, For pity hide the cruel sentence Under friendship's kind disguise! Thee, dear maid, hae I offended? While the life beats in my bosom, Not the bee upon the blossom, All beneath the simmer moon; Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture, LXXXIX. UP IN THE MORNING EARLY. The chorus of this is old; the two stanzas are mine. B. Up in the morning's no for me, When a' the hills are cover'd wi' snaw, I'm sure it's winter fairly. CAULD blaws the wind frae east to west, The drift is driving sairly; Sae loud and shrill's I hear the blast, The birds sit chittering in the thorn, And lang's the night frae e'en to morn; Up in the morning, &c. XC. WAE IS MY HEART. WAE is my heart, and the tear's in my ee; Love, thou hast pleasures; and deep hae I loved; O if I were where happy I hae been ! XCI. WHAT CAN A YOUNG LASSIE DO WI' AN AULD MAN? TUNE-What can a Lassie do. WHAT can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie, He's always compleenin frae mornin to e’enin, He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers; My auld auntie Katie upon me taks pity; I'll do my endeavour to follow her plan; I'll cross him, and rack him, until I heart-break him, And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan. XCII. THE LEA RIG. WHEN o'er the hill the eastern star In mirkest glen, at midnight hour, K |