AYE WAKING, O! Aye waking, O! For thinking on my dearie. Long, long the night, Heavy comes the morrow, While my soul's delight Is on her bed of sorrow. Can I cease to care, Can I cease to languish, Is on the couch of anguish? Long, long the night, Heavy comes the morrow, While my soul's delight Is on her bed of sorrow, Ev'ry hope is fled, Ev'ry fear is terror; Ev'ry dream is horror. Long, long the night, Heavy comes the morrow, While my soul's delight Is on the bed of sorrow. Hear me, powers divine! Oh, in pity hear me ! Take aught else of mine, But my Chloris spare me! Spare, O spare my Love! HARK THE MAVIS, &e. Hark! the mavis' evening sang Ca' the ewes to the knowes, Ca' them where the heather grows, We'll gae down by Clouden-side, Yonder Clouden's silent towers, Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear, Thou'rt to love and heaven sae dear, Nought of ill may come thee near, My bonnie dearie. Ca' the ewes, &c. Fair and lovely as thou art, Thou hast stown my very heart, I can die, but canna part, My bonnie dearie. Ca' the ewes, &c. M2 ON A BANK OF FLOWERS, &c. On a bank of flowers, in a summer day, When Willie, wand'ring through the wood, He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd, And trembled where he stood. Her closed eyes, like weapons sheath'd, Her lips, still as she fragrant breath'd, The springing lilies sweetly prest, Her robes, light waving in the breeze, A faltering 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, But Willie followed,-as he should, He overtook her in the wood; He vow'd, he pray'd, he found the maid Forgiving all, and good. UP IN THE MORNING EARLY. Up in the morning's no for me Up in the morning early: When a' the hills are covered wi snaw, Cold blaws the wind frae east to west, Sae loud and shrill's I hear the blast, The birds sit chittering in the thorn, THERE'S A YOUTH IN THIS CITY. There's a youth in this city, it were a great pity His fecket is white as the new-driven snaw; His hose they are blae, and his shoon like the slac, And his clear siller buckles they dazzle us a'. His coat is the hue, &c. For beauty and fortune the laddie's been courtin; Weel-featur'd, weel-tocher'd, weel-mounted, and braw; But chiefly the siller, that gars him gang till her, The pennie's the jewel that beautifies a'.There's Meg wi' the mailin, that fain wad a haen him, And Susy, whase daddy was laird o' the ha'; There's lang-tocher'd Nancy maist fetters his fancy, -But the laddie's dear sel he lo'es dearest of a'. DELIA. Fair the face of orient day, Sweet the lark's wild-warbled lay, The flower-enamour'd busy bee But, Delia, on thy balmy lips |