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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 FLOWERS.
For summer lightly dress'd,
With love and sleep oppress'd:
Who for her favour oft bad su'd,
And trembled when he stood.
Were seal'd in soft repose ;
It richer dy'd the rose.
Wild wanton kiss'd her rival breast;
His bosom ill at rest,
Her robes, light waying in the breeze,
Her tender limbs embrace,
All harmony and grace.
A flatt'ring ardent kiss he stole :
And sigh’d his very soul.
On fear-inspired wings;
Away affrighted springs :
He overtook her in the wood,
Forgiving all and good.
My heart is a-breaking, dear tittie,
Some counsel unto me come len';
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, &c.
He'll gie me gude hunder marks ten;
O wha will, &c.
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.
My droukit sark sleeve, as ye ken,
And the vera, &c.
I'll gie you my bonny black hen,
Gin ye will, &c.
A ROSE-BUD BY MY EARLY WALK.
A ROSE-BUD by my early walk
All on a dewy morning.
It scents the early inorning.
The dew sat chilly on her breast
Sae early in the morning.
Awake the early morning.
That ients the early morning.
That watch'd thy early morning. *
AE DAY A BRAW WOOER.
AE day a braw wooer came down the lang glen,
And sair wi' his love he did deave me ;
The deuce gae wi' him to believe me.
And bridal aff han’ was the proffer;
But thought I might get a waur offer.
And how for my love he was dien’;'
But gude forgive me for lien.'
(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,
Wha glowr'd as if he'd seen a warlock.
Lest neibours shou'd think I was saucy;
And vow'd that I was a dear lassie.
And if she had recover'd her hearin;
Gude safe us! how he felta swearin.
Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow;
I think I will wed him to-morrow.
Written and sung at a general Meeting of the
EXCISE-OFFICES IN SCOTLAND.
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;
That danc'd awa wi' the Exciseman.'
There's hornpipes aud strathspeys, man;
We'll mak our maut, &c.