Lady Mary Ann was a flower i' the dew, The simmer is gane when the leaves they were green, longer oak straight boast gone away KENMURE'S ON AND AWA. TUNE-O Kenmure's on and awa, Willie. O KENMURE's on and awa, Willie ! And Kenmure's lord's the bravest lord Success to Kenmure's band, Willie ! There's no a heart that fears a Whig Here's Kenmure's health in wine, Willie ! There ne'er was a coward o' Kenmure's blude, O Kenmure's lads are men, Willie ! O Kenmure's lads are men; Their hearts and swords are metal true And that their faes shall ken. They'll live or die wi' fame, Willie ! But soon, wi' sounding victorie, May Kenmure's lord come hame. Here's him that's far awa, Willie ! Here's him that's far awa! away foes, know And here's the flower that I love best The rose that's like the snaw! SUCH A PARCEL OF ROGUES IN A NATION. TUNE-A Parcel of Rogues in a Nation. FAREWELL to a' our Scottish fame, snow Fareweel even to the Scottish name, Sae famed in martial story. Now Sark rins o'er the Solway sands, To mark where England's province stands- What force or guile could not subdue But English gold has been our bane- O would, ere I had seen the day But pith and power, till my last hour, We're bought and sold for English gold- THE CARLES OF DYSART. TUNE-Hey, ca' through. UP wi' the carles o' Dysart, runs lain men And the kimmers o' Largo, Hey, ca' through, ca' through, We hae tales to tell, And we hae sangs to sing; We hae pennies to spend, We'll live a' our days, gossips much have And them that come behin', Let them do the like, And spend the gear they win. wealth THE SLAVE'S LAMENT. IT was in Sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral, Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more, All on that charming coast is no bitter snow or frost, There streams for ever flow, and there flowers for ever blow, And alas I am weary, weary, O! The burden I must bear, while the cruel scourge I fear, In the lands of Virginia, O; And I think on friends most dear, with the bitter, bitter tear, And alas I am weary, weary, O! COMING THROUGH THE RYE. TUNE-Coming Through the Rye. COMING through the rye, poor body, Coming through the rye, She draiglet a' her petticoatie, She draiglet a' her petticoatie, Gin a body meet a body Gin a body meet a body Gin a body kiss a body, Need the world ken? YOUNG JAMIE, PRIDE OF A' THE PLAIN. TUNE-The Carlin o' the Glen. YOUNG Jamie, pride of a' the plain, I wha sae late did range and rove, mournful who so suffer more THE CARDIN' O'T. TUNE-Salt-fish and Dumplings. I COFT a stane o' haslock woo', The tailor staw the lynin' o't. For though his locks be lyart gray, Yet I hae seen him on a day, The pride of a' the parishen. bought, stone, finest love, any every stole, lining mixed bald, above parish Her hair was like the gowd sae fine, The lass that made the bed to me. Her bosom was the drifted snaw, Her limbs like marble fair to see; A finer form nane ever saw Than hers that made the bed to me. She made the bed baith lang and braid, Upon the morrow, when I raise, I thanked her for her courtesie; A blush cam o'er the comely face Of her that made the bed for me. I clasped her waist and kissed her syne; gold so none both, broad two Boft then stood, eye if shall THE HIGHLAND LADDIE. TUNE-If thou'lt play me fair play. THE bonniest lad that e'er I saw, Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie, Wore a plaid, and was fu' braw, Bonnie Highland laddie. On his head a bonnet blue, Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie; Trumpets sound, and cannons roar, Glory, honour, now invite, Bonnie lassie, Lowland lassie, The sun a backward course shall take, Go! for yourself procure renown, |