The tither morn, when I forlorn .......................... 185
They snool me sair and haud me down...... 108
Thickest night, o'erhang my dwelling
Thine am 1, my faithful fair
Though cruel fate should bid us part..
Thou hast left me ever, Jamie
Thou lingering star, with lessening ray
To thee, loved Nith
Turn again, thou fair Eliza
'Twas ev'n, the dewy fields were green......
'Twas na her bonnie blue een was my ruin
Up wi' the carles of Dysart
Wae is my heart, and the tear's in my ee.... 197
Where are the joys I hae met in the morning 203
Where, braving angry winter's storms
Where Cart rins rowin' to the sea.......................... 167
Yestreen I had a pint o' wine
Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary
Wilt thou be my dearie
Ye banks and braes and streams around
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon
Ye gallants bright, I rede ye right
Ye Jacobites, by name...
Ye sons of old Killie.
Young Jamie, pride o' a' the plain
Young Jockey was the blythest lad..........
Young Peggy blooms our bonniest lass...... 213
Yon wild mossy mountains
ADOWN WINDING NITH I DID WANDER.
TUNE-The Mucking o' Geordie's Byre
ADOWN winding Nith I did wander,
To mark the sweet flowers as they spring;
Adown winding Nith I did wander,
Of Phillis to muse and to sing.
Awa wi' your belles and your beauties,
They never wi' her can compare:
Whaever has met wi' my Phillis,
Has met wi' the queen o' the fair.
The daisy amused my fond fancy,
So artless, so simple, so wild;
Thou emblem, said I, o' my Phillis!
For she is simplicity's child.
The rose-bud's the blush o' my charmer,
Her sweet balmy lip when 'tis prest:
How fair and how pure is the lily,
But fairer and purer her breast.
Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,
They ne'er wi' my Phillis can vie :
Her breath is the breath o' the woodbine,
It's dew-drop o' diamond her eye.
Her voice is the song of the morning,
That wakes thro' the green-spreading grove,
When Phoebus peeps over the mountains,
On music, and pleasure, and love.
But, beauty, how frail and how fleeting-
The bloom of a fine summer's day!
While worth in the mind o' my Phillis
Will flourish without a decay.
AE FOND KISS.
TUNE-Rory Dall's Port.
AE fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, 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 lov'd 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-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee!
AMANG THE TREES.
TUNE-The King of France, he rade a Race. AMANG the trees where humming bees At buds and flowers were hinging, O, Auld Caledon drew out her drone, And to her pipe was singing, O;
'Twas pibroch, sang, strathspey, or reels,
She dirl'd them off fu' clearly, O,
When there cam a yell o' foreign squeels,
That dang her tapsalteerie, O.
Their capon craws and queer ha ha's,
They made our lugs grow eerie, O!
The hungry bike did scrape and pike
Till we were wae and weary, O.
But a royal ghaist wha once was cas'd,
A prisoner aughteen year awa,
He fir'd a fiddler in the North
That dang them tapsalteerie, O.
ANNA, THY CHARMS.
TUNE-Bonnie Mary.
ANNA, thy charms my bosom fire,
And waste my soul with care;
But, ah! how bootless to admire,
When fated to despair!
Yet in thy presence, lovely fair,
To hope may be forgiven;
For sure 'twere impious to despair,
So much in sight of Heav'n.
A ROSE-BUD BY MY EARLY WALK.
TUNE-The Rose-bud.
A ROSE-BUD by my early walk,
Adown a corn-enclosed bawk,
Sae gently bent its thorny stalk,
All on a dewy morning.
Ere twice the shades o' dawn are fled,
In a' its crimson glory spread,
And drooping rich the dewy head,
It scents the early morning.
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