58

75

The Sands of Dee

I

'O MARY, go and call the cattle home, And call the cattle home,

And call the cattle home

Across the Sands of Dee.'

The western wind was wild and dank with foam,

And all alone went she.

II

The western tide crept up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand,

And round and round the sand,

As far as eye could see.

The rolling mist came down and hid the land;
And never home came she.

III

'Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair-
A tress of golden hair,

A drowned maiden's hair
Above the nets at sea?'

Was never salmon yet that shone so fair
Among the stakes on Dee.

IV

They row'd her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel crawling foam,

The cruel hungry foam,

To her grave beside the sea :

But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home

Across the Sands of Dee.

Kingsley.

59

Auld Robin Gray

WHEN the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame,

And a' the warld to rest are gane,

The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my ee,
While my gudeman lies sound by me.

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride;
But saving a croun he had naething else beside :
To make the croun a pund, young Jamie gaed to sea;
And the croun and the pund were baith for me.

He hadna been awa' a week but only twa,
When my father brak his arm, and the cow was stown

awa';

My mother she fell sick, and my Jamie at the sea-
And auld Robin Gray came a-courtin' me.

My father couldna work, and my mother couldna spin ; I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna win ; Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and wi' tears in his ee Said, Jennie, for their sakes, O, marry me!'

My heart it said nay; I look'd for Jamie back;
But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a wrack;
His ship it was a wrack-why didna Jamie dee ?
Or why do I live to cry, Wae 's me?

My father urgit sair: my mother didna speak ;
But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break :
They gie'd him my hand, but my heart was at the sea:
Sae auld Robin Gray he was gudeman to me.

I hadna been a wife a week but only four,

When mournfu' as I sat on the stane at the door,
I
saw my
Jamie's wraith, for I couldna think it he--
Till he said, 'I'm come hame to

marry thee.'

-O sair, sair did we greet, and muckle did we say ; We took but ae kiss, and I bad him gang away : I wish that I were dead, but I 'm no like to dee; And why was I born to say, Wae 's me!

I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin ;

I daurna think on Jamie, for that wad be a sin;
But I'll do my best a gude wife aye to be,
For auld Robin Gray he is kind unto me.

Lady Lindsay

60

O, My love 's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June:
O, my love 's like the melody

That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in love am I :

And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,

And the rocks melt wi' the sun!
And I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee well, my only love,
And fare thee well a-while!
And I will come again, my love,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile!

wraith] ghost. muckle] much.

sair] sorely.
daurna] dare not.

greet] cry.

61

62

John Anderson

JOHN ANDERSON, my jo, John,
When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,

Your bonnie brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld, John,
Your locks are like the snow;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson, my jo!

John Anderson, my jo, John,

We clamb the hill tegither;
And mony a canty day, John,

We 've had wi' ane anither:
Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we 'll go ;
And sleep tegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.

The Land o' the Leal

I'm wearin' awa', John,

Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John,
I'm wearin' awa'

To the land o' the leal.

There's nae sorrow there, John,
There's neither cauld nor care, John,
The day is aye fair

In the land o' the leal.

Our bonnie bairn 's there, John,

She was baith gude and fair, John ;
And O! we grudged her sair

To the land o' the leal.

brent] smooth, unwrinkled. pow] pate.

Burns.

beld] bald.
canty] cheerful.

63

But sorrow's sel' wears past, John,
And joy 's a-coming fast, John,
The joy that 's aye to last

In the land o' the leal.

Sae dear's the joy was bought, John,
Sae free the battle fought, John,
That sinfu' man e'er brought

To the land o' the leal.

O, dry your glistening ee, John!
My saul langs to be free, John,
And angels beckon me

To the land o' the leal.

O, haud
ye leal and true, John!
Your day it's wearin' through, John,
And I'll welcome you

To the land o' the leal.

Now fare-ye-weel, my ain John,
This warld's cares are vain, John,
We'll meet, and we 'll be fain,
In the land o' the leal.

Lady Nairne.

The Farewell

It was a' for our rightfu' King
We left fair Scotland's strand;

It was a' for our rightfu' King
We e'er saw Irish land,
My dear-
We e'er saw Irish land.