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HERE AWA, THERE AWA. HERE awa, there awa, wandering Willie,

Here awa, there awa, haud away hame ; Come to my bosom, my aio only deary,

Tell me thou brivg'st me, my Willie, the same. Winter winds blew, loud and cauld, at our parting,

Fears for my Willie brought tears in any e'e; Welcome, now simwer, and welcome, my Willie;

The simmer to Nature, my Willie to me. Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave of your slumbers,

How your dread howling a lover alarms ! Wauken, ye lireezes, row gently, ye billows!

And waft my dear Laddie once more to my arms. But ah, if he's faithless, and minds na his Nannie,

Hlow still between us, thou wide roaring main, May I rever see it, may I never trow it,

But, dying, believe that my Willie's my ain.

On a bank of flow’rs one summer's day,

For summer lightly dress'd,
The youthful blooming Nelly lay,

With love and sleep oppress'd:
When Willy wand'ring thro' the wood,

Who for her favour oft bad su'd,
He gaz'd, he wish’d, he fear'd, he blush'd,

And trembled when he stood.
Her closed eyes, like weapons sheatk’d,

Were seal'd in soft repose ;
Her lips still as the fragrant breath'd,

It richer dy'd the rose.
The springing lilies sweetly pressid,

Wild wanton kiss'd her rival breast;
He gaz'd, he wish’d, he fear'd, he blush'd,

His bosom ill at rest,

Her robes, light waying in the breeze,

Her tender limbs embrace,
Her lovely form, her native ease,

All harmony and grace.
Tumultuous tides his pulses roll,

A flatt'ring ardent kiss he stole :
He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush’d,

And sigh’d his very soul.
As flies the partridge from the brake,

On fear-inspired wings;
So Nelly starting, half awake,

Away affrighted springs :
But Willy follow'd, as he should,

He overtook her in the wood,
He vow'd, he pray’d, he found the maid,

Forgiving all and good.


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My heart is a-breaking, dear tittie,

Some counsel unto me come len';
To anger them a' is a pity,
But what will I do wi' Tam Glen?

To anger them, &c. I'm thinking, wi' sic a braw fallow,

In poortith I might mak a fen’; What care I in riches to wallow, If I mauna marry Tam Glen.

What care I, &c. There's Lowrie the laird o' Drumeller,

Gude day to you brute, he comes ben; He brags and he blaws o' his siller, But when will he dance like Tam Glen?

He brags, &c, Ny minnie does constantly deave me,

And bids me beware o' young men,

They flatter, she says, to deceive me,
But wha can think so of Tam Glen ?

But wha can, &c.
My daddie says, gin I'll forsake bim,

He'll gie me gude hunder marks ten;
But if its ordain'd I maun tak him,
O wha will I get but Tam Glen ?

O wha will, &c.
Yestreen at the valentine's dealing,

My heart to my mou' gied a sten, For thrice I drew one without failing, And thrice it was written Tam Glen.

For thrice, &c.
The last halloween I was waukin

My droukit sark sleeve, as ye ken,
His likeness cam up the house stauking,
And the sera grey breeks o' Tam Glen.

And the vera, &c.
Come counsel, dear tittie, don't tarry,

I'll gie you my bonny black hen,
Gin ye will advise me to marry
The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.

Gin ye will, &c.


A ROSE-BUD by my early walk
Adown a corn inclosed 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 inorning.
Within the bush, her covert nest,
A little linnet fondly prest,


The dew sat chilly on her breast

Sae early in the morning.
She soon shall see her tender brood,
The pride, the pleasure o' the wood,
Amang the fresh green leaves bedew'd,

Awake the early morning.
So thou, dear bird, young Jeany fair,
Go, trembling string or vocal air,
Shall sweetly pay the tender care

That ients the early morning.
So thou, sweet rose-bud, young and gay,
Shast beauteous blaze upon the day,
And bless the parent's evening ray

That watch'd thy early morning. *


AE day a braw wooer came down the lang glen,

And sair wi' his love he did deave me ;
But I said there was nothing I hated like men,

The deuce gae wi' him to believe me.
A weel stockit mailin, himsel' o't the laird,

And bridal aff han’ was the proffer;
I never loot on that I ken’d or I car'd,

But thought I might get a waur offer.
He spake o' the darts o' my bonny black een,

And how for my love he was dien’;'
I said he might die when he liket for Jean,

But gude forgive me for lien.'
But what do you think ! in a fortnight or less,

(The de'il's in his taste to gae near her;) He down to the castle to black cousin Bess,

Think ye how the jade I cou'd bear her.

• This song was writteu during the winter of 1787. Miss J, C. daughter of a friend of the Bard, is the heroine.

And a' the niest ouk as I fretted with care,

I gaed to the tryste o' Dulgarlock,
And wha but my braw fickle wooer was there,

Wha glowr'd as if he'd seen a warlock.
But owre iny left shouther I gied him a blink,

Lest neibours shou'd think I was saucy;
My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink,

And vow'd that I was a dear lassie.
I spier'd for my cousin fu' couthie and sweet,

And if she had recover'd her hearin;
And how my auld shoon fitted her shackel'd feet,

Gude safe us! how he felta swearin.
He begg'd me, for Gudesake! that I'd be his wife,

Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow;
So just to preserve the poor body in life,

I think I will wed him to-morrow.

Written and sung at a general Meeting of the


The de'il cam fiddling thro' the town,

And danc'd awa wi' the Exciseman ; And ilka auld wife cry'd • Auld Mahoun,

We wish you luck o'the prize, man.'


s We'll mak our maut, and brew our drink,

We'll dance, and sing, and rejoice, man;
And mony braw thanks to the muckle black de'N

That danc'd awa wi' the Exciseman.'
There's threesome reels, and foursome reels,

There's hornpipes aud strathspeys, man;
But the ae best dance e'er cain to our lan',
Was the de'il's awa wi' the Exciseman.'

We'll mak our maut, &c.

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