TIBBIE DUNBAR

TUNE "JOHNNY M'GILL."

O WILT thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
O wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
Wilt thou ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car,
Or walk by my side, O sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
I care na thy daddie, his lands and his money,
I care na thy kin, sae high and sae lordly:
But say thou wilt hae me for better, for waur,
And come in thy coatie, sweet Tibbie Dunbar ?

WEE WILLIE.

WEE Willie Gray, and his leather wallet;

Peel a willow-wand to be him boots and jacket:
The rose upon the brier will be him trouse and doublet,
The rose upon the brier will be him trouse and doublet!
Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet;

Twice a lily flower will be him sark and cravat;

Feathers of a flee wad feather up his bonnet,
Feathers of a flee wad feather up his bonnet.

THE HERMIT.1

WHOE'ER thou art, these lines now reading,
Think not, though from the world receding,
I joy my lonely days to read in

This desert drear,

That fell remorse, a conscience bleeding,
Hath led me here.

No thought of guilt my bosom sours-
Free-will'd I fled from courtly bow'rs;
For well I saw in halls and tow'rs,
That lust and pride,

The arch-fiend's dearest, darkest pow'rs,
In state preside.

1 Written on a marble sideboard, in the Hermitage belonging to the Duke of Athole, in the wood of Aberfeldy.

I saw mankind with vice encrusted ;
I saw that honour's sword was rusted;
That few for aught but folly lusted;
That he was still deceiv'd, who trusted
To love, or friend ;-

And hither came, with men disgusted,
My life to end.

In this lone cave, in garments lowly,
Alike a foe to noisy folly,

And brow-brent gloomy melancholy,
I wear away

My life, and in my office holy
Consume the day.

This rock my shield, when storms are blowing,
The limpid streamlet yonder flowing,
Supplying drink, the earth bestowing
My simple food;

But few enjoy the calm I know in
This desert wood.

Content and comfort bless me more in
This grot, than e'er I felt before in
A palace, and with thoughts still soaring
To God on high,

Each night and morn with voice imploring,
This wish I sigh :-

Let me, O Lord, from life retire,
Unknown each guilty, worldly fire,
Remorse's throb, or loose desire ;-
And when I die,

Let me in this belief expire-
To God I fly!

Stranger! if full of youth and riot,
And yet no grief has marr'd thy quiet,
Thou haply throw'st a scornful eye at
The Hermit's prayer;

But if thou hast good cause to sigh at
Thy fault or care,-

-

If thou hast known false love's vexation,
Or hast been exiled from thy nation,
Or guilt affrights thy contemplation,
And makes thee pine-

Oh! how must thou lament thy station,
And envy mine!

CRAIGIE-BURN-WOOD.

Beyond thee, dearie, beyond thee, dearie,
Änd O to be lying beyond thee;
O sweetly, soundly, weel may he sleep,
That's laid in the bed beyond thee.

SWEET closes the evening on Craigie-burn-wood,
And blythely awakens the morrow;

But the pride of the spring in the Craigie-burn-wood
Can yield to me nothing but sorrow.
Beyond thee, &c.

I see the spreading leaves and flowers,
I hear the wild birds singing;
But pleasure they hae nane for me,
While care my heart is wringing.
Beyond thee, &c.

I canna tell, I maun na tell,
I dare na for your anger;

But secret love will break my heart,
If I conceal it langer.
Beyond thee, &c.

I see thee gracefu', straight and tall,
I see thee sweet and bonnie,
But oh, what will my torments be,
If thou refuse thy Johnnie!
Beyond thee, &c.

To see thee in anither's arms,
In love to lie and languish,
'Twad be my dead, that will be seen,
My heart wad burst wi' anguish.
Beyond thee, &c.

But Jeanie, say thou wilt be mine-
Say, thou lo❜es nane before me;
An' a' my days o' life to come,
I'll gratefully adore thee.

Beyond thee, &c.

HERE'S HIS HEALTH IN WATER.

TUNE "THE JOB OF JOURNEY-WORK,"

ALTHO' my back be at the wa',
And tho' he be the fautor; ;
Altho' my back be at the wa',

Yet, here's his health in water!
O! wae gae by his wanton sides,
Sae brawlie he could flatter;
Till for his sake I'm slighted sair,
And dree the kintra clatter.
But tho' back be at the wa',
my

And tho' he be the fautor;
But tho' my back be at the wa,'

Yet, here's his health in water!

AS DOWN THE BURN THEY TOOK THEIR WAY.

As down the burn they took their way,
And thro' the flowery dale;

His cheek to hers he aft did lay,

And love was aye the tale.

With "Mary, when shall we return,
Sic pleasure to renew ?"
Quoth Mary, "Love, I like the burn,
And ay shall follow you."

LADY ONLIE.

TUNE "RUFFIAN'S RANT."

A' THE lads o' Thornie-bank,

When they gae to the shore o' Bucky,
They'll step in an' tak' a pint

Wi' Lady Onlie, honest Lucky!
Lady Onlie, honest Lucky,

Brews guid ale at shore o' Bucky;
I wish her sale for her guid ale,
The best on a' the shore o' Bucky.

Her house sae bien, her curch sae clean,
I wat she is a dainty chucky;
And cheerlie blinks the ingle-gleed
Of Lady Onlie, honest Lucky!
Lady Onlie, honest Lucky,

Brews guid ale at shore o' Bucky;
I wish her sale for her guid ale,
The best on a' the shore o' Bucky.

AS I WAS A WANDERING.

TUNE "RINN MEUDIAL MO MHEALLADH.”

As I was a wand'ring ae midsummer e'enin',
The pipers and youngsters were makin' their game;
Amang them I spied my faithless fause lover,
Which bled a' the wounds o' my dolour again.

Weel, since he has left me, may pleasure gae wi' him ;
I may be distress'd, but, I winna complain;

I flatter my fancy I may get anither,

My heart it shall never be broken for ane.

I could na get sleeping till dawin for greetin',1
The tears trickled down like the hail and the rain :
Had I na got greetin', my heart wad a broken,
For, oh! love forsaken's a tormenting pain.

Although he has left me for greed o' the siller,
I dinna envy him the gains he can win ;
I rather wad bear a' the lade o' my sorrow
Than ever hae acted sae faithless to him.

Weel, since he has left me, may pleasure gae wi' him,
I may be distress'd, but I winna complain;

I flatter my fancy I may get anither,

My heart it shall never be broken for ane.