CXXXI SALLY IN OUR ALLEY Of all the girls that are so smart Her father he makes cabbage-nets When she is by, I leave my work, Of all the days that's in the week And that's the day that comes betwixt A Saturday and Monday; For then I'm drest all in my best To walk abroad with Sally; She is the darling of my heart, My master carries me to church, Because I leave him in the lurch When Christmas comes about again I would it were ten thousand pound, She is the darling of my heart, My master and the neighbours all O then we'll wed, and then we'll bed, H. Carey CXXXII A FAREWELL Go fetch to me a pint o' wine, A service to my bonnie lassie : Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry, The ship rides by the Berwick-law, And I maun leave my bonnie Mary. The trumpets sound, the banners fly, The shouts o' war are heard afar, The battle closes thick and blocdy: But it's not the roar o' sea or shore R. Burns CXXXIII If doughty deeds my lady please And he that bends not to thine eye Shall rue it to his smart! Then tell me how to woo thee, Love; For thy dear sake, nae care I'll take If gay attire delight thine eye I'll tend thy chamber door all night, But if fond love thy heart can gain, Nae maiden lays her skaith to me, For you alone I strive to sing, O tell me how to woo! Then tell me how to woo thee, Love; O tell me how to woo thee! For thy dear sake, nae care I'll take, Graham of Gartmore CXXXIV TO A YOUNG LADY Sweet stream, that winds through yonder glade, Silent and chaste she steals along, W. Cowper CXXXV THE SLEEPING BEAUTY Sleep on, and dream of Heaven awhile- And move, and breathe delicious sighs! Ah, now soft blushes tinge her cheeks She starts, she trembles, and she weeps! Sleep on secure ! Above controul Remain within its sanctuary! S. Rogers But it's not the roar o' sea or shore CXXXIII If doughty deeds my lady please And he that bends not to thine eye Shall rue it to his smart! Then tell me how to woo thee, Love; For thy dear sake, nae care I'll take If gay attire delight thine eye I'll tend thy chamber door all night, But if fond love thy heart can gain, Nae maiden lays her skaith to me, For you alone I strive to sing, O tell me how to woo ! Then tell me how to woo thee, Love; O tell me how to woo thee! For thy dear sake, nae care I'll take, Graham of Gartmore |