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"For Johnie o' the Buskie-glen,
I dinna care a single flie;

He loes sae weel his craps and kye,
He has nae luve to spare for me:
But blythe's the blink o' Robie's ee,
And, weel I wat, he loes me dear:
Ae blink o' him I wad na gie

For Buskie-glen and a' his gear."
"Oh thoughtless lassie, life's a faught;
The canniest gate, the strife is sair;
But aye fou han't is fechtin best,

And hungry care's an unco care:
But some will spend, and some will spare,
And wilfu' folk maun hae their will;
Syne as ye brew, my maiden fair,

Keep mind that ye maun drink the yill." Oh, gear will buy me rigs o' land, And gear will buy me sheep and kye; But the tender heart o' leesome luve The gowd and siller canna buy; may be poor-Robie and I,

We

Light is the burden luve lays on;

Content and luve brings peace and joyWhat mair hae queens upon a throne?

CRAIGIEBURN WOOD.

TUNE-Craigieburn Wood.

SWEET fa's the eve on Craigieburn,
And blythe awakes the morrow
But a' the pride o' spring's return
Can yield me nocht but sorrow.

D

I see the flowers and spreading trees,
I hear the wild birds singing;
But what a weary wight can please,
And care his bosom wringing?

Fain, fain would I my griefs impart,
Yet dare na for your anger;
But secret love will break my heart,
If I conceal it langer.

If thou refuse to pity me,

If thou shalt love anither,

When yon green leaves fade frae the tree, Around my grave they'll wither.

DAINTY DAVIE.

TUNE-Dainty Davie.

Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
To deck her gay green spreading bowers;
And now come in my happy hours,
To wander wi' my Davie.

CHORUS.

Meet me on the warlock knowe,
Dainty Davie, dainty Davie;
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain dear dainty Davie.

The crystal waters round us fa'
The merry birds are lovers a',
The scented breezes round us blaw,
A wandering wi' my Davie.

When purple morning starts the hare,
To steal upon her early fare,
Then through the dews I will repair,
To meet my faithfu' Davie.

When day expiring in the west,
The curtain draws o' nature's rest,
I flee to his arms I loe best,
And that's my ain dear Davie.

DELUDED SWAIN, THE PLEASURE.
TUNE-The Collier's Bonnie Lassie.

DELUDED Swain, the pleasure,
The fickle Fair can give thee,

Is but a fairy treasure

Thy hopes will soon deceive thee.

The billows on the ocean,

The breezes idly roaming,
The clouds' uncertain motion,
They are but types of woman.

Oh! art thou not ashamed
To doat upon a feature?
If man thou would'st be named,
Despise the silly creature.

Go, find an honest fellow;
Good claret set before thee:
Hold on till thou art mellow,
And then to bed in glory.

DUNCAN GRAY.

DUNCAN GRAY cam here to woo,

Ha, ha, the wooing o't,

On blythe Yule night when we were fu',
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Maggie coost her head fu' high,
Look'd asklent and unco skeigh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh;
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.

Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd;
Ha, ha, &c.

Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig,
Ha, ha, &c.

Duncan sigh'd baith out and in,
Grat his een baith bleert and blin',
Spak o' lowpin' ower a linn;
Ha, ha, &c.

Time and chance are but a tide,
Ha, ha, &c.

Slighted love is sair to bide,

Ha, ha, &c.

Shall I, like a fool, quoth he,
For a haughty hizzie die?
She may gae to-France for me!
Ha, ha, &c.

How it comes let doctors tell,

Ha, ha, &c.

Meg grew sick- as he grew heal,
Ha, ha, &c.

Something in her bosom wrings,
For relief a sigh she brings;

And oh, her een, they spak sic things!
Ha, ha, &c.

Duncan was a lad o' grace,
Ha, ha, &c.

Maggie's was a piteous case,
Ha, ha, &c.

Duncan could na be her death,
Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath.
Now they're crouse and canty baith;
Ha, ha, &c.

EPPIE ADAIR.

TUNE-My Eppie.

AND oh! my Eppie,
My jewel, my Eppie!
Wha wadna be happy
Wi' Eppie Adair?
By love, and by beauty,
By law, and by duty,
I swear to be true to
My Eppie Adair!
And oh my Eppie,
My jewel, my Eppie,
Wha wadna be happy
Wi' Eppie Adair?
A' pleasure exile me,
Dishonour defile me,
If e'er I beguile thee,
My Eppie Adair !

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