« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »
TUNE-"The Northern Lass."
[This beautiful fragment is an early composition.]
THOUGH cruel fate should bid us part,
Though mountains frown and deserts howl,
And oceans roar between;
Yet dearer than my deathless soul,
OH, wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar ? Oh, wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar ? Wilt thou ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car, Or walk by my side, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
I carena thy daddie, his lands and his money,
TUNE-"John Anderson, my jo."
ONE night as I did wander,
I sat me down to ponder,
Auld Ayr ran by before me,
A cushat crooded o'er me,
Oн, leave novels, ye Mauchline belles,
Your fine Tom Jones and Grandisons,
Beware a tongue that's smoothly hung,
The frank address, the soft caress,
The frank address an' politesse
Are all finesse in Rob Mossgiel.
THE MIRK NIGHT O' DECEMBER.
TUNE-" May, thy morn."
O MAY, thy morn was ne'er sae sweet
An' here's to them that, like oursel',
An' here's to them that wish us weel,
May a' that's gude watch o'er them!
Oh, saw ye my Dearie?
An' here's to them we darena name,
The dearest o' the quorum :
An' here's to them we darena tell,
OH, SAW YE MY DEARIE?
TUNE-" Eppie Macnab."
[Altered from the old song of "Eppie Macnab," which had more wit than decency.]
Oн, saw ye my dearie, my Eppie M'Nab?
What says she, my dearie, my Eppie M‘Nab?
OF A' THE AIRTS THE WIND CAN BLAW.
TUNE-"Miss Admiral Gordon's strathspey."
["This song I composed out of compliment to Mrs. Burns.-N. B. It was in the honeymoon."-Burns.]
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west,
For there the bonnie lassie lives,
The lassie I lo'e best:
There wild woods grow, an' rivers row,
An' mony a hill between;
But day an' night my fancy's flight
I see her in the dewy flow'rs,
I hear her in the tunefu' birds,
There's not a bonnie flow'r that springs
Oh, blaw, ye westlin winds, blaw saft
Wi' balmy gale, frae hill an' dale
That's aye sae neat an' clean;