Farewell! and ne'er such sorrows tear
That fickle heart of thine, my Katy!
Thou mayst find those will love thee dear-
But not a love like mine, my Katy.
Canst thou, &c.
JONG, 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 ?
Long, &c.
Every hope is fled,
Every fear is terror;
Slumber even I dread,
Every dream is horror.
Long, &c.
Hear me, Powers divine!
Oh, in pity hear me !
Take aught else of mine,
But my Chloris spare me!
Long, &c.
WHEN GUILDFORD GOOD OUR PILOT
HEN Guildford good our Pilot stood,
An' did our hellim thraw, man,
Ae night, at tea, began a plea,
Within America, man :
Then up they gat the maskin-pat,
And in the sea did jaw, man;
An' did nae less, in full Congress,
Than quite refuse our law, man.
Then through the lakes Montgomery takes,
I wat he was na slaw, man;
Down Lowrie's burn he took a turn,
And Carleton did ca', man:
But yet, what-reck, he, at Quebec,
Montgomery-like did fa', man,
Wi' sword in hand, before his band,
Amang his en'mies a', man.
Poor Tammy Gage, within a cage
Was kept at Boston ha', man;
Till Willie Howe took o'er the knowe
For Philadelphia, man:
Wi' sword an' gun he thought a sin
Guid Christian bluid to draw, man;
But at New York, wi' knife an' fork,
Sir-Loin he hacked sma', man.
Burgoyne gaed up, like spur an' whip,
Till Fraser brave did fa', man;
Then lost his way, ae misty day,
In Saratoga shaw, man.
Cornwallis fought as lang's he dought,
An' did the buckskins claw, man;
But Clinton's glaive frae rust to save,
He hung it to the wa', man.
Then Montague, an' Guildford too,
Began to fear a fa', man;
And Sackville doure, wha stood the stoure,
The German Chief to thraw, man;
For Paddy Burke, like ony Turk,
Nae mercy had at a', man;
An' Charlie Fox threw by the box,
An' lows'd his tinkler jaw, man.
Then Rockingham took up the game;
Till death did on him ca', man;
When Shelburne meek held up his cheek,
Conform to Gospel law, man;
Saint Stephen's boys, wi' jarring noise,
They did his measures thraw, man;
For North an' Fox united stocks,
An' bore him to the wa', man.
Then clubs an' hearts were Charlie's cartes, He swept the stakes awa', man,
Till the diamond's ace, of Indian race,
Led him a sair faux pas, man :
The Saxon lads wi' loud placads,
On Chatham's boy did ca', man;
An' Scotland drew her pipe, an' blew,
"Up, Willie, waur them a', man!"
Behind the throne then Grenville's gone,
A secret word or twa, man;
While slee Dundas arous'd the class
Be-north the Roman wa', man:
An' Chatham's wraith, in heavenly graith, (Inspired Bardies saw, man)
Wi' kindling eyes cry'd, "Willie, rise! "Would I hae fear'd them a', man?"
But, word an' blow, North, Fox, and Co.
Gowff'd Willie like a ba', man,
Till Suthron raise, an' coost their claise
Behind him in a raw, man;
An' Caledon threw by the drone,
An' did her whittle draw, man;
An' swoor fu' rude through dirt and blood,
To make it guid in law, man.
TUNE" CORN RIGS ARE BONNIE."
T was upon a Lammas night,
When corn rigs are bonnie,
Beneath the moon's unclouded light,
I held awa to Annie:
The time flew by, wi' tentless heed,
'Till 'tween the late and early,
Wi' sma' persuasion she agreed,
To see me through the barley.
The sky was blue, the wind was still,
The moon was shining clearly,
I set her down, wi' right good will,
Amang the rigs o' barley:
I ken't her heart was a' my ain;
I lov'd her most sincerely;
I kiss'd her owre and owre again
Amang the rigs o' barley.
I lock'd her in my fond embrace;
Her heart was beating rarely;
My blessings on that happy place
Amang the rigs o' barley!
But by the moon and stars so bright,
That shone that hour so clearly
aye shall bless that happy night
Amang the rigs o' barley.
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