Page images
PDF
EPUB

But at twal at night, when the moon shines bright,

My dear I'll come and see thee ;
For the man that lo'es his mistress weel

Nae travel makes him weary.

O STEER HER UP.

Tune-"O steer her up, and haud her gaun."

O STEER her up, and haud her gaun,

Her mother's at the mill, jo ;
And gin she winna take a man,

E'en let her take her will, jo :
First shore her wi' a kindly kiss,

And ca’ anither gill, jo,
And gin she take the thing amiss,

E’en let her flyte her fill, jo.

O steer her up, and be na blate,

And gin she take it ill, jo,
Then lea'e the lassie till her fate,

And time nae langer spill, jo :
Ne'er break your heart for ae rebut,

But think upon it still, jo;
Then gin the lassie winna do't,

Ye'll fin' anither will, jo.

O AYE MY WIFE SHE DANG ME.*

Tune—“My wife she dang me."

O AYE my wife she dang me,

And aft my wife did bang me;
If ye gie a woman a' her will,

Gude faith, she'll soon o'ergang ye.
On peace and rest my mind was bent,

And fool I was I married ;
But never honest man's intent

As cursedly miscarried.

* When Burns wrote the above, he had probably in his recollection the old words to which the air was originally united.

I was twenty years a bachelor,

And lived a single life ;
But I never could contented be

Until I got a wife.
But I hadna lang married been

Till she began to bang me,
And near dang out my very een,

And sware she would gae hang me.

Ae day I at a wedding was

And dancing on the green;
I laid my hands on a kent lass,

Said, hail ye dainty quean.
Up comes my wifie in a crack,

And on the flure she dang me,
And for a lick o' the grey mare pock,

She sware that she would hang me.

But when I did get up again,

Then fast awa ran I;
My wife she chas'd me owre the plain

Wi' mony a hue and cry.
But I soon tipped her the wink,

And said nae mair ye'se bang me,
I'll drink nae mair o' your sour drink
For fear at last ye hang me.

M.

Some sairie comfort still at last,

When a' their days are done, man;
My pains o' hell on earth are past,

I'm sure o' bliss aboon, man.
O aye my wife she dang me,

And aft my wife did bang me;
If ye gie a woman a' her will,

Gude faith, she'll soon o'ergang ye.

OH, WERT THOU IN THE CAULD BLAST.

Tune Lass o' Livistone."

Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast,

On yonder lea, on yonder lea,
My plaidie to the angry airt,

I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee :
Or did misfortune's bitter storms

Around thee blaw, around thee blaw,
Thy bield should be my bosom,

To share it a', to share it a'.

Or were I in the wildest waste,

Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,
The desert were a paradise,

If thou wert there, if thou wert there :
Or were I monarch o' the globe,

Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign,
The brightest jewel in my crown

Wad be my queen, wad be my queen

O WHA IS SHE THAT LO’ES ME.

Tune" Morag."

O wha is she that lo'es me,

And has my heart a-keeping ?
O sweet is she that lo'es me,

As dews o'simmer weeping,
In tears the rose-buds steeping!

O that's the lassie o' my heart,

My lassie ever dearer ;
O that's the queen of womankind,

And ne'er a ane to peer her.

If thou shalt meet a lassie

In grace and beauty charming,
That e’en thy chosen lassie,

Erewhile thy breast sae warming,
Had ne'er sic powers alarming ;

O that's the lassie o' my heart,

My lassie ever dearer ;
O that's the queen o' womankind,

And ne'er a ane to peer her.

If thou hadst heard her talking,

And thy attentions plighted,
That ilka body talking,

But her by thee is slighted,
And thou art all delighted ;

O that's the lassie o' my heart,

My lassie ever dearer ;
O that's the queen o' womankind,

And ne'er a ane to peer her

If thou hast met this fair one ;

When frae her thou hast parted,

If every other fair one,

But her, thou hast deserted,
And thou art broken-hearted;

O that's the lassie o' my heart,

My lassie ever dearer ;
O that's the queen o'womankind,

And ne'er a ane to peer her.

O LAY THY LOOF IN MINE, LASS.

Tune-" Cordwainer's March.”

OLAY thy loof in mine, lass,
In mine, lass, in mine, lass ;
And swear on thy white hand, lass,

That thou wilt be my ain.
A slave to love's unbounded sway,
He aft has wrought me meikle wae ;
But now he is my deadly fae,

Unless thou be my ain.

There's monie a lass has broke my rest,
That for a blink I hae lo'ed best ;
But thou art queen within my breast,

For ever to remain.
O lay thy loof in mine, lass,
In mine, lass, in mine, lass;
And swear on thy white hand, lass,

That thou wilt be my ain.

« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »