TUNE-" AN GILLE DUBH CIAR DHUBH."
TAY, my charmer, can you leave me?
Cruel, cruel to deceive me!
Well you know how much you grieve me;
Cruel charmer, can you go?
Cruel charmer, can you go?
By my love so ill-requited;
By the faith you fondly plighted;
By the pangs of lovers slighted;
Do not, do not, leave me so!
Do not, do not, leave me so!
TUNE "ROTHEMURCHIE'S RANT."
AIREST maid on Devon banks,
Crystal Devon, winding Devon,
Wilt thou lay that frown aside,
And smile as thou were wont to do?
FULL Well thou know'st I love thee dear,
Couldst thou to malice lend an ear?
O, did not love exclaim, " Forbear,
Nor use a faithful lover so?"
Then come, thou fairest of the fair,
Those wonted smiles, oh, let me share!
And by thy beauteous self I swear,
No love but thine my heart shall know.
Fairest maid, &c.
HICKEST night, o'erhang my dwelling!
Howling tempests, o'er me rave!
Turbid torrents, wintry swelling,
Still surround my lonely cave!
Crystal streamlets gently flowing,
Busy haunts of base mankind,
Western breezes softly blowing,
Suit not my distracted mind.
In the cause of right engag'd,
Wrongs injurious to redress,
Honour's war we strongly wag'd,
But the Heavens denied success.
Ruin's wheel has driven o'er us,
Not a hope that dare attend;
The wide world is all before us-
But a world without a friend!
RAVING WINDS AROUND HER BLOWING.
TUNE-"M'GRegor of ruarA'S LAMENT."
AVING winds around her blowing,
Yellow leaves the woodlands strowing,
By a river hoarsely roaring,
Isabella stray'd deploring:
"Farewell, hours that late did measure
Sunshine days of joy and pleasure;
Hail, thou gloomy night of sorrow,
Cheerless night that knows no morrow!
“O'er the past too fondly wandering,
On the hopeless future pondering;
Chilly grief my life-blood freezes,
Fell despair my fancy seizes.
Life, thou soul of every blessing,
Load to misery most distressing,
O, how gladly I'd resign thee,
And to dark oblivion join thee!"
MUSING ON THE ROARING OCEAN.
USING on the roaring ocean
Which divides my love and me;
Wearying Heaven in warm devotion,
For his weal where'er he be.
Hope and fear's alternate billow
Yielding late to Nature's law;
Whisp'ring spirits round my pillow
Talk of him that's far awa.
Ye whom sorrow never wounded,
Ye who never shed a tear,
Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded,
Gaudy day to you is dear.
Gentle night, do thou befriend me,
Downy sleep the curtain draw;
Spirits kind, again attend me,
Talk of him that's far awa.
TUNE" ANDRO AND HIS CUTTIE GUN."
LITHE, blithe and merry was she,
Blithe was she but and ben:
Blithe by the banks of Ern,
But blither in Glenturit glen.
By Ochtertyre grows the aik,
On Yarrow banks, the birken shaw;
But Phemie was a bonnier lass
Than braes o' Yarrow ever saw.
Her looks were like a flower in May,
Her smile was like a simmer morn;
She tripped by the banks of Ern
As light's a bird upon a thorn.
Blithe, &c.
Her bonnie face it was as meek
As onie lamb's upon a lee;
The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet
As was the blink o' Phemie's e'e.
Blithe, &c.
The Highland hills I've wander'd wide,
And o'er the Lowlands I hae been;
But Phemie was the blithest lass
That ever trod the dewy green.
Blithe, &c.
NEIL GOW'S LAMENTATION FOR ABERCAIRNY.
HERE, braving angry winter's storms,
The lofty Ochels rise,
Far in their shade my Peggy's charms
First blest my wondering eyes.
As one who, by some savage stream,
A lonely gem surveys,
Astonish'd, doubly marks its beam
With art's most polish'd blaze.
Blest be the wild, sequester'd shade,
And blest the day and hour,
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