TUNE" Rory Dall's Port."
AE fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae farewell, alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.
I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,
Naething could resist my Nancy:
But to see her was to love her;
Love but her, and love for ever.
Had we never loved sae kindly,
Had we never loved sae blindly,
Never met-or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure!
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae fareweel, alas! for ever!
Deep in heart-wrurg tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.
O FOR ANE-AND-TWENTY TAM.
TUNE "The Moudiewort."
An' O for ane-and-twenty, Tam!
An' hey, sweet ane-and-twenty, Tam!
I'll learn my kin a rattlin' sang,
An I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam.
THEY snool me sair, and haud me down,
And gar me look like bluntie, Tam!
But three short years will soon wheel roun
And then comes ane-and-twenty, Tam.
A gleib o' lan', a claut o' gear,
Was left me by my aunty, Tam:
At kith or kin I need na spier,
An I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam.
They'll ha'e me wed a wealthy coof,
Tho' I mysel' ha'e plenty, Tam:
But, hear'st thou, laddie? there's my loof,.
I'm thine at ane-and-twenty, Tam!
An' O for ane-and-twenty, Tam!
An' hey, sweet ane-and-twenty, Tam!
I'll learn my kin a rattlin' sang,
An' I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam!
BESS AND HER SPINNING WHEEL.
TUNE-"The sweet lass that lo'es me."
O LEEZE me on my spinning-wheel,
O leeze me on my rock and reel;
Frae tap to tae that cleeds me bien,
And haps me fiel and warm at e'en !
I'll set me down and sing and spin,
While laigh descends the simmer sun,
Blest wi' content and milk and meal-
O leeze me on my spinning wheel.
On ilka hand the burnies trot,
And meet below my theekit cot;
The scented birk and hawthorn white
Across the pool their arms unite,
Alike to screen the birdie's nest,
And little fishes' caller rest;
The sun blinks kindly in the biel'
Where blithe I turn my spinning wheel
On lofty aiks the cushats wail,
And echo cons the doolfu' tale;
The lintwhites in the hazel braes,
Delighted, rival ither's lays :
The craik amang the claver hay,
The paitrick whirrin' o'er the ley,
The swallow jinkin' round my shiel,
Amuse me at my spinning wheel,
Wi' sma' to sell, and less to buy,
Aboon distress, below envy,
O wha would leave this humble state,
For a' the pride of a' the great?
Amid their flaring, idle toys,
Amid their cumbrous, dinsome joys,
Can they the peace and pleasure feel
Of Bessy at her spinning wheel?
SIC A WIFE AS WILLIE HAD.
TUNE "Tibbie Fowler."
WILLIE WASTLE dwelt on Tweed,
The spot they ca'd it Linkumdoddie; Willie was a wabster guid,
Could stown a clue wi' ony body;
He had a wife was dour and din,
O Tinkler Madgie was her mither;
Sic a wife as Willie had
I wad na gie a button for her.
She has an e'e, she has but ane,
The cat has twa, the very colour; Five rusty teeth, forby a stump,
A clapper tongue wad deave a miller; A whiskin beard about her mou',
Her nose and chin they threaten ither; Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gie a button for her.
She's bow-hough'd, she's hien-shinn'd,
Ae limpin' leg a hand-breed shorter;
She's twisted right, she's twisted left,
To balance fair in ilka quarter ;
She has a hump upon her breast,
The twin o' that upon her shouther;
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gi'e a button for her.
Auld baudrons by the ingle sits,
An' wi' her loof her face a-washin';
But Willie's wife is nae sae trig,
She dights her grunzie wi' a hushion ⚫
Her walie nieves like midden creels,
Her face wad fyle the Logan-Water,
Sic a wife as Willie had,
I wad na gi'e a button for her.
SCENE-A field of battle; time of day, evening- the wounded and dying of the victorious army are supposed to join in the following song.
FAREWELL, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies,
Now gay with the bright setting sun;
Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear, tender ties,
Our race of existence is run!
Thou grim king of terrors, thou life's gloomy foe,
Go, frighten the coward and slave ;
Go, teach them to tremble, fell tyrant! but know,
No terrors hast thou for the brave.
Thou strik'st the dull peasant-he sinks in the dark,
Nor saves e'en the wreck of a name ;
Thou strik'st the young hero-a glorious mark!
He falls in the blaze of his fame.
In the field of proud honour-our swords in our hands,
Our king and our country to save-
While victory shines on life's last ebbing sands,
O! who would not rest with the brave!
[This is an old Highland air, and the title means, my love did deceive me." There is much feeling expressed in this song.]
TUNE Rirn Meudial mo Mhealladh."
As I was a-wand'ring ae midsummer e'enin',
The pipers and youngsters were making 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 couldna get sleeping till dawnin' for greetin',
The tears trickled down like the hail and the rain
Had I na got greetin', my heart would ha'e 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 ha'e 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.
O LUVE WILL VENTURE IN.
TUNE-"The Posie."
O LUVE will venture in where it daurna weel be seen,
O luve will venture in where wisdom ance has been ;
But I will down yon river rove, amang the woods sae
And a' to pu' a posie to my ain dear May.
The primrose I will pu', the firstling o' the year,
And I will pu' the pink, the emblem o' my dear;
For she's the pink o' womankind, and bloons without a And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.
I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view,
For it's like a baumy kiss o' her sweet bonnie mou';
The hyacinth's for constancy, wi' its unchanging blue,
And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May.
The lilly it is pure, and the lilly it is fair,
And in her lovely bosom I'll place the lilly there;
The daisy's for simplicity and unaffected air,
And a' to be a posie to my aix dear May.
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