SONGS.

HANDSOME NELL.

TUNE-I am a man unmarried.

Oн once I loved a bonnie lass,

Ay, and I love her still;

And whilst that honour warms my breast,

I'll love my handsome Nell.

yes

Is pleasant to the ee,

But without some better qualities,

She's no the lass for me.

But Nelly's looks are blithe and sweet,

And, what is best of a',

Her reputation is complete,

And fair without a flaw.

She dresses aye sae clean and neat,

Both decent and genteel:

And then there's something in her gait
Gars ony dress look weel.

A gaudy dress and gentle air
May slightly touch the heart;
But it's innocence and modesty
That polishes the dart.

'Tis this in Nelly pleases me,
"Tis this enchants my soul;
For absolutely in my breast
She reigns without control.

eye

80

makes any

I DREAMED I LAY.

I DREAMED I lay where flowers were springing
Gaily in the sunny beam;

Listening to the wild birds singing,

By a falling, crystal stream:

Straight the sky grew black and daring;
Through the woods the whirlwinds rave;
Trees with aged arms were warring,
O'er the swelling drumlie wave.

Such was my life's deceitful morning,
Such the pleasure I enjoyed;

But lang or noon, loud tempests storming,
A' my flowery bliss destroyed.
Though fickle fortune has deceived me,

She promised fair, and performed but ill;

Of mony a joy and hope bereaved me,
I bear a heart shall support me still.

troubled

long ere

many

MY NANIE, O.

TUNE-My Nanie, O.

BEHIND yon hills where Lugar flows,
'Mang moors and mosses many, O,
The wintry sun the day has closed,
And I'll awa to Nanie, O.

The westlin wind blaws loud and shill;

The night's baith mirk and rainy, O; But I'll get my plaid, and out I'll steal, And owre the hills to Nanie, O.

0:

among

away

westerly, blows, shrill both dark

My Nanie's charming, sweet, and young;
Nae artfu' wiles to win ye,
May ill befa' the flattering tongue

That wad beguile my Nanie, O!

Her face is fair, her heart is true,
As spotless as she's bonnie, 0:
The opening gowan, wet wi' dew,
Nae purer is than Nanie, O.

A country lad is my degree,

And few there be that ken me, O;
But what care I how few they be?
I'm welcome aye to Nanie, O.

My riches a's my penny-fee,
And I maun guide it cannie, O;
But warl's gear ne'er troubles me,

My thoughts are a'-my Nanie, O.

over

no

would

daisy

know

all is, wages must, carefully world's wealth

I doubt na, lass, but ye may think,
Because ye hae the name o' clink,
That ye can please me at a wink,
Whene'er you like to try.

But sorrow tak him that's sae mean,
Although his pouch o' coin were clean,
Wha follows ony saucy quean,

That looks sae proud and high.

Although a lad were e'er sae smart,
If that he want the yellow dirt,
Ye'll cast your head another airt,
And answer him fu' dry.

But if he hae the name o' gear,
Ye'll fasten to him like a brier,

last night

spoke, went, dust

mock

Though hardly he, for sense or lear,

learning

COWS

Be better than the kye.

But, Tibbie, lass, tak my advice,

Your daddie's gear maks vou sae nice,
THERE'S NO a ane wad speer your price,
Were ye as poor as I.

There lives a lass in yonder park,
I would na gi'e her in her sark,

father's

one, ask

For thee, wi' a' thy thousan' mark;
Ye need na look sae high.

give, shift

ON CESSNOCK BANKS.
TUNE-If he be a butcher neat and trim.

ON Cessnock Banks there lives a lass;
Could I describe her shape and mien,
The graces of her weel-faured face,
And the glancing of her sparkling een!
She's fresher than the morning dawn
When rising Phoebus first is seen,
When dewdrops twinkle o'er the lawn;
And she's twa glancing sparkling een.
She's stately like yon youthful ash,

That grows the cowslip braes between,
And shoots its head above each bush;
And she's twa glancing sparkling een.
She's spotless as the flowering thorn,
With flowers so white and leaves so green,
When purest in the dewy morn;

And she's twa glancing sparkling een.
Her looks are like the sportive lamb,
When flowery May adorns the scene,
That wantons round its bleating dam;
And she's twa glancing sparkling een.
Her hair is like the curling mist

That shades the mountain-side at e'en, When flower-reviving rains are past; And she's twa glancing sparkling een. Her forehead's like the showery bow, When shining sunbeams intervene, And gild the distant mountain's brow; And she's twa glancing sparkling een.

Her voice is like the evening thrush

That sings in Cessnock Banks unseen, While his mate sits nestling in the bush; And she's twa glancing sparkling een.

Her lips are like the cherries ripe

That sunny walls from Boreas screen-
They tempt the taste and charm the sight;
And she's twa glancing sparkling een.

Her teeth are like a flock of sheep,
With fleeces newly washen clean,
That slowly mount the rising steep;
And she's twa glancing sparkling een.
Her breath is like the fragrant breeze
That gently stirs the blossomed bean,
When Phoebus sinks beneath the seas;
And she's twa glancing sparkling een.

well-favoured

eyes

two

hillocks

Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem,
The pride of all the flowery scene,
Just opening on its thorny stem;

And she's twa sparkling rogueish een.
But it's not her air, her form, her face,
Though matching beauty's fabled queen,
But the mind that shines in every grace,
And chiefly in her sparkling een.

MY FATHER WAS A FARMER.

TUNE-The Weaver and his Shuttle, O.

My father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, O,
And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O;

He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne'er a farthing, O; For without an honest manly heart no man was worth regarding, O.

Then out into the world my course I did determine, O;

Though to be rich was not my wish, yet to be great was charming, 0:

My talents they were not the worst, nor yet my education, O; Resolved was I, at least to try, to mend my situation, O.

In many a way, and vain essay, 1 courted Fortune's favour, O; Some cause unseen still stept between, to frustrate each endeavour, O.

Sometimes by foes I was o'erpowered, sometimes by friends forsaken, O;

And when my hope was at the top, I still was worst mistaken, O. Then sore harassed, and tired at last, with Fortune's vain delusion, O,

I dropt my schemes, like idle dreams, and came to this conclusion, O

The past was bad, and the future hid-its good or ill untried, O; But the present hour was in my power, and so I would enjoy it, O.

No help, nor hope, nor view had I, nor person to befriend me, O; So I must toil, and sweat, and broil, and labour to sustain me, O; To plough and sow, to reap, and mow, my father bred me early, O; For one, he said, to labour bred, was a match for Fortune fairly, O. Thus all obscure, unknown, and poor, through life I'm doomed to wander, O,

Till down my weary bones I lay, in everlasting slumber, O.

No view nor care, but shun whate'er might breed me pain or

sorrow, O!

I live to-day as well's I may, regardless of to-morrow, O.

But cheerful still I am as well as a monarch in a palace, O, Though Fortune's frown still haunts me down with all her wonted

malice, 0: