Bonnie Ann.

Care-untroubled, joy-surrounded,
Gaudy day to you is dear.

Gentle night, do thou befriend me;
Downy sleep the curtain draw;

Spirits kind again attend me,
Talk of him that's far awa'.

151

BONNIE ANN.

TUNE-"Ye gallants bright."

["I composed this song out of compliment to Miss Ann Masterton, the daughter of my friend Allan Masterton, the author of the air Strathallan's Lament, and two or three others in this work (Johnson's Scots Musical Museum)."-Burns.]

YE gallants bright, I rede ye right,
Beware o' bonnie Ann:

Her comely face sae fu' o' grace,
Your heart she will trepan.

Her een sae bright, like stars by night,

Her skin is like the swan;

Sae jimply lac'd her genty waist,
That sweetly ye might span.

Youth, grace, an' love attendant move,
An' pleasure leads the van:

In a' their charms an' conquering arms,
They wait on bonnie Ann.

The captive bands may chain the hands,

But love enslaves the man;

Ye gallants braw, I rede ye a',
Beware o' bonnie Ann!

HOW CAN I BE BLITHE AND GLAD?
TUNE-"The bonnie lad that's far awa'."

OH how can I be blithe and glad,
Or how can I gang brisk and braw,
When the bonnie lad that I lo❜e best
Is owre the hills and far awa'?

When the bonnie lad that I lo'e best
Is owre the hills and far awa'?

It's no the frosty winter wind,
It's no the driving drift an' snaw;
But aye the tear comes in my e'e,
To think on him that's far awa'.
But aye the tear comes in my e'e,
To think on him that's far awa'.

My father pat me frae his door,
My friends they ha'e disown'd me a',
But I ha'e ane will tak' my part,
The bonnie lad that's far awa'.
But I ha'e ane will tak' my part,
The bonnie lad that's far awa'.

The gallant Weaver.

A pair o' gloves he ga'e to me,
An' silken snoods he ga'e me twa,
An' I will wear them for his sake,
The bonnie lad that's far awa'.
An' I will wear them for his sake,
The bonnie lad that's far awa'.

THE GALLANT WEAVER.

TUNE-"The weaver's march."

WHERE Cart rins rowin' to the sea,
By mony a flow'r and spreading tree,
There lives a lad, the lad for me,
He is a gallant weaver.

Oh, I had wooers aucht or nine,
They gi'ed me rings and ribbons fine;
An' I was fear'd my heart would tine,
An' I gi'ed it to the weaver.

My daddie sign'd my tocher-band,
To gi'e the lad that has the land;
But to my heart I'll add my hand,

And gi'e it to the weaver.

While birds rejoice in leafy bowers;

While bees delight in op'ning flowers;

While corn grows green in simmer showers,
I'll love my gallant weaver.

153

OH WHA IS SHE THAT LO'ES ME?

TUNE-"Morag."

Oн, wha is she that lo'es me,
An' has my heart a-keeping?
Oh, sweet is she that lo'es me,
As dews o' simmer weeping,
In tears the rose-buds steeping!

Oh, that's the lassie o' my heart,
My lassie ever dearer;

Oh, that's the queen o' womankind,
An' ne'er a ane to peer her.

If thou shalt meet a lassie,
In grace an' beauty charming,
That e'en thy chosen lassie,
Erewhile thy breast sae warming,
Had ne'er sic powers alarming:

If thou hadst heard her talking,
An' thy attentions plighted,
That ilka body talking,

But her, by thee is slighted,
An' thou art all delighted:

If thou hast met this fair one;
When frae her thou hast parted,

My bonnie Mary.

155

If every other fair one,

But her, thou hast deserted,

An' thou art broken-hearted ;

Oh, that's the lassie o' my heart,
My lassie ever dearer;

Oh, that's the queen o' womankind,
An' ne'er a ane to peer her.

MY BONNIE MARY.

TUNE-"Go fetch to me a pint o' wine."

["This air is Oswald's; the first half-stanza of this song is old; the rest mine."-Burns.]

Go fetch to me a pint o' wine,

And fill it in a silver tassie;

That I may drink, before I go,

A service to my bonnie lassie:
The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,

Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the ferry;

The ship rides by the Berwick-law,
An' I maun leave my bonnie Mary.

The trumpets sound, the banners fly,
The glittering spears are ranked ready;

The shouts o' war are heard afar,

The battle closes thick and bloody;