Meanwhile the hapless daughter
Has but a choice of strife;
To shun a tyrant father's hate,
Become a wretched wife.
The ravening hawk pursuing,
The trembling dove thus flies,
To shun impending ruin,
A while her pinions tries;
Till of escape despairing,
No shelter or retreat,
She trusts the ruthless falconer,
And drops beneath his feet.
TUNE-"De'll tak' the wars.'
"
MARK yonder pomp of costly fashion,
Round the wealthy, titled bride;
But when compared with real passion,,
Poor is all that princely pride,
What are the showy treasures?
What are the noisy pleasures?
The gay, gaudy glare of vanity and art:
The polish'd jewel's blaze
May draw the word'ring gaze,
And courtly grandeur bright.
The fancy may delight,
But never, never can come near the heart.
But did you see my dearest Chloris,
In simplicity's array;
Lovely as yonder sweet opening flower is,.
Shrinking from the gaze of day.
O then, the heart alarming,
And all resistless charming,
In Love's delightful fetters she chains the willing soul !
Ambition would disown
The world's imperial crown,
Even Avarice would deny
His worshipp'd deity,
And feel through every vein Love's raptures roll.
THIS IS NO MY AIN LASSIE.
TUNE" This is no my ain house."
O this is no my ain lassie,
Fair though the lassie be;
O weel ken I my own lassie,
Kind love is in her e'e.
I SEE a form, I see a face,
Ye weel ma wi' the fairest place:
It wants, to me, the witchin' grace,
The kind love that's in her e'e.
She's bonnie, blooming, straight, and tall,
And lang has had my heart in thrall;
And aye it charms my very saul,
The kind love that's in her e'e.
A thief sae pawkie is my Jean,
To steal a blink, by a' unseen;
But gleg as light are lovers' een,
When kind love is in the e'e.
It may escape the courtly sparks ;
It may escape the learned clerks;
But weel the watching lover marks
The kind love that's in her e'e.
O this is no my ain lassie,
Fair though the lassie be;
O weel ken I my ain lassie,
Kind love is in her e'e..
ON CHLORIS BEING ILL
TUNE "Aye wakin', O."
Long, long the night,
Heavy comes the morrow,
While my soul's delight
Is on her bed of sorrow.
CAN I cease to care?
Can I cease to languish,
While my darling fair
Is on the couch of anguish ?
Every hope is fled,
Every fear is terror;
Slumber even I dread,
Every dream is horror.
Hear me, Pow'rs divine !
Oh, in pity hear me !
Take aught else of mine,
But my Chloris spare me!
Long, long the night,
Heavy comes the morrow,
While my soul's delight
Is on her bed of sorrow.
THE DUMFRIES VOLUNTEERS.
TUNE "Push about the Jorum."
DOES haughty Gaul invasion threat?
Then let the loons beware, Sir,
There's wooden walls upon our seas,
And volunteers on shore, Sir.
The Nith shall run to Corsincon,
And Criffel sink in Solway,
Ere we permit a foreign foe
On British ground to rally!
O let us not like snarling tykes
In wrangling be divided;
Till slap come in an unco loon
And wi' a rung decide it.
Be Britain still to Britain true,
Amang oursel's united;
For never but by British hands
Maun British wrangs be righted.
The kettle o' the kirk and state
Perhaps a clout may fail in't;
But de'il a foreign tinkler loon
Shall ever ca' a nail in't.
Our fathers' bluid the kettle bought,
And wha wad dare to spoil it,
By heaven! the sacrilegious dog
Shall fuel be to boil it.
The wretch that wad a tyrant own,
And the wretch his true-born brother,
Who would set the mob aboon the throne,
May they be damn'd together!
Who will not sing, "God save the King,"
Shall hang as high's the steeple ;
But while we sing, "God save the King,"
We'll ne'er forget the People.
TUNE-The Lothian Lassie."
LAST May a braw wooer cam' down the lang glen,
And sair wi' his love he did deave me ;
I said there was naething I hated like men-
The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me, believe me,
The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me !
He spak' o' the darts in my bonnie black een,
And vow'd for my love he was dying;
I said he might die when he liked, for Jean-
The Lord forgi'e me for lying, for lying,
The Lord forgi'e me for lying!
A weel-stocked mailen, himsel' for the laird,
And marriage aff-hand were his proffers:
I never loot on that I kenn'd it or cared,
But thought I might ha'e waur offers, waur offers,
But thought I might ha'e waur offers.
But what wad ye think? in a fortnight or less,
The de'il tak' his taste to go near her!
He up the lang loan to my black cousin Bess
Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her, could bear her, Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her,
But a' the niest week as I fretted wi' care,
saed to the tryste o' Dalgarnock,
wha but my fine fickle lover was there!
lowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock,
owr'd as I'd seen a warlock.
But owre my left shouther I gae him a blink,
Lest neebors might say I was saucy;
My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink,
And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie,
And vow'd I was his dear lassie!
I spier'd for my cousin fu' couthy and sweet,
Gin she had recover'd her hearin',
And how her new shoon fit her auld shackl't feet,
But, heavens! how he fell a swearin', a swearin,
But heavens! how he fell a swearin'.
He begged for Gudesake! I wad be his wife,
Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow;
So e'en to preserve the poor body in life,
I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow, I think I maun wed him to-morrow.
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