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In ev'ry hour that passes, 0:
Green grow, c.
And riches still may flee them, 0;
Green grow, C.
My arms about my dearie, 0,
Green grow, bc.
Ye're nonght but senseless asses, 0 :
Green grow, te.
Her noblest work she classes, 0 :
Green grow, tc, SONG.
Tunë, “ Jockey's grey breeks.”
I. Again rejoicing nature sees
Her robe assume its vernal hues, Her leafy locks wave in the breeze
All freshly steep'd in morning dews.
CHORUS*. And maun I still on Meniet doat,
And bear the scorn that's in her e'e! For it's jet, jet black, an' it's like a hawk,
An' it winna let a body be!
In vain to me the vi'lets spring ;
And maun I still, 6c.
Wi' joy the tentie seedsman stalks,
And maun I still, C.
Amang the reeds the ducklings cry,
And maun I still, ác.
* This chorus is part of a song composed by a gentleman in Edinburgh, a particular friend of the author's
+ Mente is the common abbreviation of Mari. amne.
And owre the moorlands whistles shill,
And maun I still, ác.
Blythe waukens by the daisy's side,
And maun I still, dc.
And raging bend the naked tree;
When nature all is sad like me!
CHORUS. And maun I still on Menie doat,
And bear the scorn that's in her e'e ! For it's jet, jet black, and it's like a hawk,
An' it winna let a body be*.
* We cannot presume to alter any of the poems of our bard, and more especially those printed under his own direction; yet it is to be regretted that this chorus, which is not of his own composition, should be attached to these fine stanzas, as it perpetually interrupts the train of sentiment which they excite.
Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,
III. 'Tis not the surging billow's roar, 'Tis not that fatal deadly shore; Tho' death in every shape appear, The wretched have no more to fear : But round my heart the ties are bound, That heart transpierc'd with many a wound; These bleed afresh, those ties I tear To leave the bonnie banks of Ayr.
IV. Farewell, old Coila's hills and dales, Her heathy moors and winding vales ; The scenes where wretched fancy roves, Pursuing past, unhappy loves ! Farewell, my friends! Farewell, my foes ! My peace with these, my love with those The bursting tears my heart declare, Farewell the bonnie banks of Ayr.
Tune, “ Gilderoy."
1. From thee, Eliza, I must go,
And from my native shore;
A boundless ocean's roar :
Between my love and me,
My heart and soul from thee;
The maid that I adore !
We part to meet no more!
While death stands victor by,
And thine that latest sigh!
Tune, “ Good night and joy be wi' you a'."
1. Adieu! a heart-warm, fond adieu !
Dear brothers of the mystic tye ! Ye favour'd, ye enlighten'd few,
Companions of my social joy! Tbo' I to foreign lands must hie,
Pursuing Fortyne's slidd'ry bal,