Not the bee upon the blossom, All beneath the simmer moon; Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture, SHE'S FAIR AND FAUSE. SHE's fair and fause that causes my smart, A coof cam in wi' rowth o' gear,1 Whae'er ye be that woman love, Nae ferlie 3 'tis tho' fickle she prove, O Woman lovely, Woman fair! 'Twad been o'er meikle to 've gien thee mair, THE POSIE. O LUVE will venture in, where it daur na weel be seen, green, And a' to pu' a Posie to my ain dear May. The primrose I will pu', the firstling o' the year, For she's the pink o' womankind, and blooms without a peer ; And a' to be a Posie to my ain dear May. 1 A blockhead came with plenty of wealth. 2 Lost. I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view, The lily it is pure, and the lily it is fair, The hawthorn I will pu', wi' its locks o' siller gray, The woodbine I will pu' when the e'ening star is near, I'll tie the Posie round wi' the silken band o' luve, And this will be a Posie to my ain dear May. THE BANKS O' DOON.1 TUNE "THE CALEDONIAN HUNT'S DELIGHT." YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, 1 We have this song in an earlier and simpler form, as the writer sent it to Mr. Ballantine: Mr. Cunningham, on the authority of an Ayrshire legend, discovers the heroine of the song in Miss Kennedy, of Dalgarrock, who broke her heart for one M'Dougall, of Logan : Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon, How can ye chant, ye little birds, Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird, That sings upon the bough; Thou minds me o' the happy days, When my fause luve was true. Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird, That sings beside thy mate; For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o' my fate. Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird, Thou'lt break my heart, thou bonnie bird, And wist na o' my fate. Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; And ilka bird sang o' its luve, And fondly sae did I o' mine. Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, GLOOMY DECEMBER.1 TUNE-" WANDERING WILLIE." ANCE mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December! Ance mair I hail thee wi' sorrow and care; Sad was the parting thou makes me remember, Parting wi' Nancy, oh! ne'er to meet mair. Fond lovers' parting is sweet painful pleasure, Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour; But the dire feeling, O farewell for ever! Is anguish unmingl'd and agony pure. Wild as the winter now tearing the forest, Till the last leaf o' the summer is flown, Such is the tempest has taken my bosom, Since my last hope and my comfort is gone; Aft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon, Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose And my fause luver staw the rose, 1 On parting from Clarinda. Still as I hail thee, thou gloomy December, BEHOLD THE HOUR. TUNE "ORAN-GAOIL." BEHOLD the hour, the boat arrive! But fate has will'd, and we must part! There latest mark'd her vanish'd sail." While flitting sea-fowls round me cry, I'll westward turn my wistful eye : Where now my Nancy's path may be ! WILLIE'S WIFE.1 TUNE-" TIBBIE FOWLER IN THE GLEN." Cou'd stown a clue wi' onie bodie; I wad na gie a button for her. She has an e'e, she has but ane, The cat has twa the very colour; A whiskin beard about her mou, Her nose and chin they threaten ither; I wad na gie a button for her. 1 Willie's wife is said to have been the wife of a farmer near Ellisland. 2 Weaver. 3 Sullen and sallow. 4 Deafen. X She's bow-hough'd,' she's hein-shinn'd, I wad na gie a button for her. Auld baudrons3 by the ingle sits, 5 8 She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion ;7 I wad na gie a button for her. AFTON WATER." FLOW gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, 1 Out-kneed. 2 Hand's-breadth. 10 Soil. s Cat. 4 Neat. 7 Cushion. 8 Big fists. 11 Afton, a stream in Ayrshire. |