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Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west,

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Come, let me take thee to my breast,

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Coming through the rye, poor body,

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Contented wi' little, an' cantie wi' mair,

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Could aught of song declare my pains,

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Deluded swain, the pleasure,

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Does haughty Gaul invasion threat?

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Duncan Gray cam' here to woo,

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Farewell, thou fair day, thou green earth, and ye skies, 122
Farewell, thou stream that winding flows,

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Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong,

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First when Maggy was my care,

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Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, 13
Forlorn, my love, no comfort near,
From thee, Eliza, I must go,

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Full well thou know'st I love thee dear,

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Gane is the day, an' mirk’s the night,

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Go, fetch to me a pint o' wine,

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Had I a cave on some wild distant shore,

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Hark the mavis' evening sang,

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Here awa', there awa', wandering Willie,

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Here is the glen, and here the bower,

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Here's a health to them that's awa',

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Her flowing locks, the raven's wing,

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How can my poor heart be glad,

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How cruel are the parents,

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How lang an' dreary is the night,

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How pleasant the banks of the clear winding Devon,

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Husband, husband, cease your strife,
I do confess thou art sae fair,
I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing,
I gaed a waefu' gate yestreen,

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I ha'e a wife o' my ain,

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Ilk care an' fear, when thou art near,

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Index of First Lines.

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I'll aye ca’ in by yon town,
In simmer, when the hay was mawn,
I see a form, I see a face,
Is there, for honest poverty,
Is this thy plighted, fond regard,
It is na, Jean, thy bonnie face,
It was the charming month of May,
It was upon a Lammas night,
Jockey's ta’en the parting kiss,
John Anderson, my jo, John,
Last May a braw wooer cam' down the lang glen,
Let not woman e'er complain,
Loud blaw the frosty breezes,
Louis, what reck I by thee,
Mark yonder pomp of costly fashion,
Musing on the roaring ocean,
My Chloris, mark how green the groves,
My father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, 0,
My Harry was a gallant gay,
My heart is a-breaking, dear tittie,
My heart is sair—I darena tell,
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
My lord a-hunting he is gane,
My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form,
Nae gentle dames, tho' e'er sae fair,
No churchman am I for to rail and to write,
Now banks anbraes are claith'd in green,
Now in her green mantle blithe nature arrays,
Now Nature cleeds the flowery lea,
Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
Now spring has clad the grove

in

green,
Now westlin winds an' slaught'ring guns,
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw,

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Oh, bonnie was yon rosy brier,
Oh, cam' ye here the fight to shun,
Oh, how can I be blithe an' glad,
Oh, how shall I, unskilfu', try,
Oh, ken

ye wha Meg o' the Mill has gotten?
Oh, lay thy loof in mine, lass,
Oh, leave novels, ye Mauchline belles,
Oh, leeze me on my spinning-wheel,
Oh, lovely Polly Stewart,
Oh, luve will venture in where it daurna weel be seen,
Oh, meikle thinks my luve o' my beauty,
Oh, mirk, mirk is this midnight hour,
Oh, my luve's like a red, red rose,
Oh, once I lov'd a bonnie lass,
Oh!
open

the door some pity to show,
Oh, raging fortune's withering blast,
Oh, sad and heavy should I part,
Oh, saw ye bonnie Lesley,
Oh, saw ye my dearie, my Eppie M‘Nab,
Oh, saw ye my dear, my Phely,
Oh, stay, sweet warbling wood-lark, stay,
Oh, tell na me o' wind an' rain,
Oh, wat ye wha's in yon town,
Oh, were I on Parnassus' hill,
Oh, Willie brew'd a peck o' maut,
Oh, wha is she that lo'es me,
Oh, wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
O lassie, art thou sleeping yet?
O Logan, sweetly didst thou glide,
O Mary, at thy window be,
O May, thy morn was ne'er sae sweet,
O Philly, happy be that day,
O poortith cauld and restless love,
On a bank of flowers, in a summer day,

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Index of First Lines.

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On Cessnock banks there lives a lass,
One night as I did wander,
Out over the Forth I look to the north,
Powers celestial! whose protection,
Raving winds around her blowing,
Sae flaxen were her ringlets,
Scots, wha ha'e wi' Wallace bled,
She is a winsome wee thing,
She's fair an' fause that causes my smart,
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
Sleep'st thou, or wak'st thou, fairest creature ?
Stay, my charmer, can you leave me?.
Streams that glide in orient plains,
Sweet fa's the eve on Craigieburn,
The Catrine woods were yellow seen,
The day returns, my bosom burns,
The de'il cam' fiddling through the town,
The gloomy night is gathering fast,
The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill,
The lovely lass o’ Inverness,
The small birds rejoice in the green leaves returning,
The smiling spring comes in rejoicing,
The Thames flows proudly to the sea,
The tither morn, when I forlorn,
Their groves o'sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon,
There was a bonnie lass, and a bonnie, bonnie lass,
There was a lad was born in Kyle,
There was a lass, an' she was fair,
There was once a day—but old Time then was young,
There were three kings into the east,
There's auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen, .
There's a youth in this city, it were a great pity,
There's braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes,
There's nought but care on ev'ry han',

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They snool me sair, and haud me down,
Thickest night, o'erhang my dwelling,
Thine am I, my faithful fair,
Though cruel fate should bid us part,
Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, thou hast left me ever, .
Thou ling’ring star, with less'ning ray,
To thee, lov'd Nith, thy gladsome plains,
True-hearted was he, the sad swain o' the Yarrow,
Turn again, thou fair Eliza,
'Twas even, the dewy fields were green,
'Twas na her bonnie blue e'e was my ruin,
Wae is my heart, an' the tear's in my e'e,
What can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie,
When first I came to Stewart Kyle,
When o'er the hill the eastern star,
When wild war's deadly blast was blawn,
Where are the joys I have met in the morning,
Where, braving angry winter's storms,
Where Cart rins rowin' to the sea,
While larks with little wing,
Why, why tell thy lover,
Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary?
Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed,
Wilt thou be my dearie?
Ye banks, and braes, and streams around,
Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon,
Ye flowery banks o’ bonnie Doon,
Ye gallants bright, I rede ye right,
Yestreen I had a pint o' wine,
Yestreen I met you on the moor,
Yon wild, mossy mountains, sae lofty and wide,
Young Jockey was the blithest lad,
Young Peggy blooms our bonniest lass,

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