HEY FOR A LASS WI' A TOCHER.

He begged, for Gudesake! I wad be his wife, Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow:

So e'en to preserve the poor body in life,

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I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow, I think I maun wed him to-morrow.

HEY FOR A LASS WI' A TOCHER.

TUNE-Ballinamona ora.

AWA wi' your witchcraft o' beauty's alarms,
The slender bit beauty you grasp in your arms:
O, gie me the lass that has acres o' charms,
O, gie me the lass wi' the weel-stockit farms.

CHORUS.

Then hey, for a lass wi' a tocher, then hey, for a lass wi' a tocher,

Then hey, for a lass wi a tocher; the nice yellow guineas for me.

Your beauty's a flower in the morning that blows,
And withers the faster, the faster it grows;
But the rapturous charm o' the bonnie green
[yowes.
Ilk spring they're new deckit wi' bonnie white
Then hey, &c.

knowes,

And e'en when this beauty your bosom has blest, The brightest o' beauty may cloy, when possest; But the sweet yellow darlings wi' Geordie imprest, The langer ye hae them-the mair they're carest. Then hey, &c.

ALTHO' THOU MAUN NEVER BE MINE.

TUNE-Here's a health to them that's awa, hiney.

CHORUS.

Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear,

Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear;

Thou art as sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,
And soft as their parting tear-Jessy!

ALTHO' thou maun never be mine,
Altho' even hope is denied ;
"Tis sweeter for thee despairing,
Than aught in the world beside-Jessy!
Here's a health, &c.

I mourn thro' the gay, gaudy day,

As, hopeless, I muse on thy charms: But welcome the dream o' sweet slumber, For then I am lockt in thy arms-Jessy! Here's a health, &c.

I guess by the dear angel smile,

I guess by the love-rolling ee; But why urge the tender confession

'Gainst fortune's fell cruel decree-Jessy! Here's a health, &c.

FULL WELL THOU KNOW'ST.

TUNE-Rothiemurchus.

CHORUS.

Fairest maid on Devon banks,

Crystal Devon, winding Devon,

Wilt thou lay that frown aside,

And smile as thou were wont to do?

THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY.

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?'
Fairest maid, &c.

Then come, thou fairest of the fair,
Those wonted smiles, O, let me share;
And by thy beauteous self I swear,

No love but thine my heart shall know.
Fairest maid, &c.

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THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY.

CHORUS.

Bonnie lassie, will ye go, will ye go, will ye go,
Bonnie lassie, will ye go to the Birks of Aberfeldy?
Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays,
Come let us spend the lightsome days
In the Birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonnie lassie, &c.

While o'er their heads the hazels hing,
The little birdies blithly sing,

Or lightly flit on wanton wing
In the Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonnie lassie, &c.

The braes ascend like lofty wa's,
The foaming stream deep roaring fa's,
O'er-hung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The Birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonnie lassie, &c.

VOL. II.

I

The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers,
White o'er the linns the burnie pours,
And rising, weets wi' misty showers
The Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonnie lassie, &c.

Let fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love and thee,
In the Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonnie lassie, &c.

STAY, MY CHARMER.

TUNE-An Gille dubh ciar dhubh.

STAY, 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!

THICKEST NIGHT.

TUNE-Strathallan's Lament.

THICKEST night, o'erhang my dwelling! Howling tempests, o'er me rave! Turbid torrents, wintry swelling,

Still surround my lonely cave!

THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER.

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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 deny'd 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!

THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER. TUNE-Morag.

LOUD blaw the frosty breezes,

The snaws the mountains cover;
Like winter on me seizes,

Since my young Highland Rover
Far wanders nations over.
Where'er he go, where'er he stray,
May Heaven be his warden:
Return him safe to fair Strathspey,
And bonnie Castle Gordon !
The trees now naked groaning,
Shall soon wi' leaves be hinging,

The birdies dowie moaning,

Shall a' be blithly singing,
And every flower be springing.
Sae I'll rejoice the lee-lang day,
When by his mighty warden

My youth's return'd to fair Strathspey,
And bonnie Castle Gordon.