May foes be strang, and friends be slack,
Ilk action may he rue it;
May woman on him turn her back,
That wrangs thee, Willie Stewart.

MONTGOMERY'S PEGGY.218

Tune.-"Gala-Water.

ALTHO' my bed were in yon muir,
Amang the heather, in my plaidie,
Yet happy, happy would I be,

Had I my dear Montgomery's Peggy.
When o'er the hill beat surly storms,

And winter nights were dark and rainy; I'd seek some dell, and in my arms

I'd shelter dear Montgomery's Peggy. Were I a baron proud and high,

And corse and servants waiting ready, Then a' twad gie o' joy to me,

The sharin't with Montgomery's Peggy.

BONNY PEGGY ALISON.219 Tune-"Braes o' Balquhidder." I'LL kiss thee yet, yet,

And I'll kiss thee o'er again; And I'll kiss thee yet, yet,

My bonnie Peggy Alison!

Ilk care and fear, when thou art hear,
I ever mair defy them, O!
Young kings upon their hansel throne
Are no sae blest as I am, O!

When in my arms, wi' a' thy charms,
I clasp my countless treasure, O!
I seek nae mair o' Heaven to share,
Than sic a moment's pleasure, O!
And by thy c'en, sae bonnie blue,
I swear I'm thine for ever, O!
And on thy lips I seal my vow,

And break it shall I never, O!

HERE'S TO THY HEALTH, MY BONNIE LASS.

Tune-"Laggan Burn.'

HERE'S to thy health, my bonnie lass,
Guid night, and joy be wi' thee;
I'll come nae mair to thy bower-door,
To tell thee that I lo'e thee:

Oh, dinna think, my pretty pink,
But I can live without thee:

I vow and swear I dinna care
How lang ye look about ye.
Thou'rt aye sae free informing me
Thou hast nae mind to marry:
I'll be as free informing thee

Nae time hac I to tarry.
I ken thy friends try ilka means,
Frac wedlock to delay thee;
Depending on some higher chance-
But fortune may betray thec.
Iken they scorn my low estate,
But that does never grieve me;

But I'm as free as any he,

Sma' siller will relieve ine.

I count my health my greatest wealth,
Sae long as I'il enjoy it :

I'll fear nae scant, I'll bode nae want,
As lang's I get employment.

But far-off fowls hac feathers fair,

And aye until ye try them:

Tho' they seem fair, still have a care,

They may prove waur than I am.

But at twal at night, when the moon shines bright,

My dear, I'll come and see thee;

For the man that lo'es his mistress weel,
Nae travel makes him weary.

YOUNG PEGGY 220
Tune-"Last time I came o'er the Muir.
YOUNG PEGGY blooms our bonniest lass,
Her blush is like the morning,
The rosy dawn, the springing grass,
With early gems adorning:
Her eyes outshine the radiant beams
That gild the passing shower,
And glitter o'er the crystal streams,
And cheer each fresli'ning flower.

Her lips, more than the cherries bright,
A richer dye has graced them;
They charm th' admiring gazer's sight,
And sweetly tempt to taste them:
Her smile is, as the evening mild.
When feather'd tribes are courting,
And little lambkins wanton wild,
In playful bands disporting.
Were Fortune lovely Peggy's foe,

Such sweetness would relent her;
As blooming spring unbends the brow
Of surly, savage winter.
Detraction's eye no aim can gain,
Her winning powers to lessen;
And fretful envy grins in vain,
The poison'd tooth to fasten.

Ye pow'rs of honour, love, and truth,
From ev'ry ill defend her:
Inspire the highly-favour'd youth,
The Destinies intend her:
Still fan the sweet conubial flame
Responsive in cach bosom,
And bless the dear parental name
With many a filial blossom.

THE PLOUGHMAN.
Tune-Up wi' the Ploughman.“
THE ploughman he's a bonnie lad,
His mind is ever true, jo;
His garters knit below his knee,
His bonnet it is blue, jo.

Then up wi' my ploughman lad,
And hey my merry ploughman!
Of a' the trades that I do ken,

Commend me to the ploughman.
My ploughman he comes hame at e'en,
He's often wat and weary;
Cast off the wat, put on the dry,
And gae to bed, my dearie!

I will wash my ploughman's hose,
And I will dress his o'erlay;
I will mak my ploughman's bed,

And cheer him late and early.

I hae been cast, I hac been west,
I hae been at St. Johnston;
The bonniest sight that e'er I saw
Was the ploughman laddie dancin'.
Shaw-white stockins' on his legs,
And siller buckles glancin';
A guid blue bonnet cn his head-
And oh, but he was handsome!
Commend me to the barn-yard,
And at the corn-mou', man;
I never gat my coggie fou,
Till I meet wi' the ploughman.

YON WILD MOSSY MOUNTAINS.221
Tune-Yon wild mossy mountains."

YON wild mossy mountains sac lofty and wide,
That nurse in their bosom the youth o' the
Clyde,

Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed,

And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on his reed.

Where the grouse lead their coveys thro' the heather to feed,

And the shepherd tents his flock as he pipes on his reed.

Not Gowrie's rich vallias, nor Forth's sunny shores,

To me has the charm o' yon wild, mossy moors; For there, by a lanely and sequester'd stream, Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream.

For there, by a lanely and sequester'd stream, Resides a sweet lassie, my thought and my dream.

Amang the wild mountains shall still be my path,

'Ilk stream foaming down its ain green, narrow strath:

For there wi' my lassie, the day lang I rove, While o'er us unheeded flee the swift hours o' love.

For there wi' my lassie, the day lang I rove, While o'er us unheeded flee the swift hours o` love.

She is not the fairest, altho' she is fair;
O' nice education but sma' is her share;
Her parentage humble as humble can be;
But I love the dear lassie because she lo'es me.
Her parentage humble as humble can be;
But I love the dear lassie because she lo`es me.
To beauty what man but maun yield him a
prize,

In her armour of glances, and blushes, and sighs? And when wit and refinement hae polish'd her darts,

They dazzle our e'en, as they flee to our hearts. And when wit and refinement has polish'd her darts,

They dazzle our e'en, as they flee to our hearts.

But kindness, sweet kindness, in the fond sparkling c'e,

Has lustre outshining the diamond to me;

And the heart beating love, as I'm clasp'd in her arms,

Oh, these are my lassie's all-conquering charms! And the heart beating love as I'm clasp'd in her arms,

Oh, these are my lassie's all-conquering charins!

ON CESSNOCK BANKS. Tune-"If he be a Butcher neat and trim." ON Cessnock banks there lives a lass, Could I describe her shape and mien; The graces of her weel-faur'd face,

And the glancin' of her sparklin' e'en! She's fresher than the morning dawn, When rising Phoebus first is seen, When dew-drops twinkle o'er the lawn; And she's twa glancin' sparklin' e'en. She's stately like yon youthful ash,

That grows the cowslip braes between, And shoots its head above each bush; And she's twa glancin' sparklin' e'en, She's spotless as the flow'ring thorn,

With flow'rs so white, and leaves so green, When purest in the dewy morn;

And she's twa glancin sparklin' e'en. Her looks are like the sportive lamb, When flow'ry May adorns the scene, That wantons round its bleating dam; And she's twa glancin' sparklin' c'en. Her hair is like the curling mist

That shades the mountain-side at e'en, When flow'ry-reviving rains are past: And she's twa glancin' sparklin' e'en.

Her forehead's like the show'ry bow,
When shining sunbeams intervene,
And gild the distant mountain's brow;
And she's twa glancin' sparklin' c'en.
Her voice is like the evening thrush
That sings on Cessnock banks unseen,
While his mate sets nestling in the bush;
And she's twa glancin' sparklin' e'en.
Her lips are like the cherries ripe

That sunny walls from Boreas screen.
They tempt the taste and charm the sight;
And she's twa glancin' sparklin' e`en.
Her teeth are like a flock of sheep,
With fleeces newly washen clean,
That slowly mount the rising steep;
And she's twa glancin' sparklin'c'en,
Her breath is like the fragrant breeze
That gently stirs the blossom'd bean,
When Phoebus sinks beneath the seas;
And she's twa glancin' sparklin' e'en.
But it's not her air, her form, her face,
Tho' matching beauty's fabled queen;
But the mind that shines in ev'ry grace,
And chiefly in her sparklin' e'en.

POWERS CELESTIA L.
Tune-"Blue Bonnets."
POWERS celestial! whose protection
Ever guards the virtuous fair,
While in distant climes I wander,
Let my Mary be your care:
Let her form sae fair and faultless,
Fair and faultless as your own,
Let my Mary's kindred spirit
Draw your choicest influence down.
Make the gales you waft around her
Soft and peaceful as her breast,
Breathing in the breeze that fans her,
Soothe her bosom into rest:
Guardian angels! oh protect her,
When in distant lands I roam:

To realms unknown while fate exiles me,
Make her bosom still my home.

I'M OWRE YOUNG TO MARRY YET. Tune-"I'm owre young to marry yet."

I AM my mammy's ae bairn,

Wi' unco folk I weary, Sir:
And if I gang to your house,
I'm fley'd 'twill make me eerie, Sir.

I'm owre young to marry yet;

I'm owre young to marry yet;
I'm owre young-'twad be a sin

To take me frae my mammy yet.
Hallowmas is come and gane,

The nights are lang in winter. Sir;
And you and I in wedlock's bands,
In troth, I dare not venture, Sir.
I'm owre young, &c.

Fu' loud and shrill the frosty wind
Blaws through the leafless timmer, Sir;
But if ye come this gate again,
I'll aulder be gin simmer, Sir.

I'm owre young, &c.

M'PHERSON'S FAREWELL.222

Tune-" Macpherson's Rant." FAREWELL, ye dungeons dark and strong, The wretch's destinie!

Macpherson's time will not be long
On yonder gallows-tree.

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he;

He play'd a spring, and danc'd it round,
Below the gallows-tree.

Oh, what is death but parting breath?-
On mony a bloody plain

I've dar'd his face, and in this place
I scorn him yet again!

Untie these bands from off my hands,
And bring to me my sword;
And there's no man in all Scotland,
But I'll brave him at a word.

I've liv'd a life of sturt and strife;

I die by treacherie:

It burns my heart I must depart,
And not avengèd be.

Now farewell light-thou sunshine bright,
And all beneath the sky!

May coward shame disdain his name,
The wretch that dares not die!

IIERE'S A HEALTH TO THEM THATS AWA'.
Tune-"Here's a health to them that's awa'."
HERE'S a health to them that's awa',

And wha winna wish guid luck to our cause,
May never guid luck be their fa'!

It's guid to be merry and wise,
It's guid to be honest and true,
Its gaid to support Caledonia's,

And bide by the buff and the blue.

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

Here's a health to Charlie,223 the chief o' the clan,

Altho' that his band be but sma'.

May Liberty meet wi' success!

May Prudence protect her frac evil!

May tyrants and tyranny tine in the mist,
And wander their way to the devil!

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

Here's a health to Tammie, the Norland laddie,
That lives at the lug o' the law!

Here's freedom to him that wad read!
Here's freedom to him that wad write!
There's nane ever fear'd that the truth should
be heard,

But they wham the truth wad indite.

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

But me he shall not buy nor fee,

For an auld man shall never daunton me.

He hirples twa-fauld as he dow,

Wi' his teethless gab and his auld beld pow,

And the rain rains down from his red bleer'd e'e

That auld man shall never daunton me.

WHEN JANUAR' WIND,224
Tune-"The lass that made the bed to me.'
WHEN Januar' wind was blawing cauld,
As to the north I took my way.
The mirksome night did me enfauld,
I knew na where to lodge till day.

By my good luck a maid I met,
Just in the middle o' my care;
And kindly she did me invite

To walk into a chamber fair.

I bow'd fu' low unto this maid,
And thank'd her for her courtesie;

1 bow'd fu' low unto this maid,

And bade her mak a bed to me.

She made the bed baith large and wide,
Wi' twa white hands she spread it down;
She put the cup to her rosy lips,

And drank, Young man, now sleep ye soun"."

She snatch'd the candle in her hand,

And frae my chamber went wi' speed;
But I call'd her quickly back again,
To lay some mair below my head.

A cod she laid below my head,
And served me wi' due respect;
And to salute her wi' a kiss,

I put my arms about her neck.

"Haud aff your hands, young man," she says, "And dinna sae uncivil be:

If ye hae ony love for me,

O wrang na my virginitie!"
Her hair was like the links o' gowd,
Her teeth were like the ivorie;
Her cheeks like lilies dipt in wine,
The lass that made the bed to me.
Her bosom was the driven snaw,
Twa drifted heaps sae fair to see;
Her limbs the polish'd marble stane,
The lass that made the bed to me.

I kiss'd her owre and owre again,
And aye she wist na what to say;

gow'd,

Tho' bred amang mountains o' snaw! Here's friends on both sides of the Forth, And friends on both sides of the Tweed;

And wha wad betray old Albion's rights,

May they never eat of her bread!

BLAW.

Tune-"To daunton me."

THE blude-red rose at Yule may blaw,
The simmer lilies bloom in snaw,
The frost may freeze the deepest sea;
But an auld inan shall never daunton me.

To daunton me, and me so young,
Wi' his fause heart and flatt'ring tongue,
That is the thing you ne'er shall see:
For an auld man shall never daunton me.

For a' his meal, and a' his maut,
For a' his fresh beef and his sout,
For a' his gold and white monie,
An auld man shall never daunton me.

His gear may buy him kye and yowes,
His gear may buy him glens and knowes;

For ye aye shall make the bed to me." She took her mither's Holland sheets, And make them a' in sarks to me: Blythe and merry may she be,

The lass that made the bed to me.
The bonnie lass made the bed to me,
The braw lass made the bed to me
I'll ne'er forget till the day I die,
The lass that made the bed to me!

BONNIE ANN.225 Tune-Ye gallants bright." YE gallants bright, I red ye right, Beware o' bonnie Ann; Her comely fa cesae fu' o' grace, Your heart she will trepan.

Her e'en 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, and love, attendant move,
And pleasure leads the van:

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

The captive bands may chain the hands,
But love enslaves the man;
Ye gallants braw, I red you a',
Beware o' bonnie Ann!

BLOOMING NELLY.

Tune-"On a bank of Flowers."

On a bank of flowers, in a summer day,
For summer lightly drest,
The youthful blooming Nelly lay,
With love and sleep opprest;
When Willie, wand'ring thro' the wood,
Who for her favour oft had sued,

He gaz'd, he wish'd he fear'd, he blush'd,
And trembled where he stood.

Her closed eyes like weapons sheath'd,
Were seal'd in soft repose;

Her lips still as she fragrant breath'd,
It richer dy'd the rose.

The springing lilies sweetly prest,
Wild-wanton, kiss'd her rival breast;

He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd,
His bosom ill at rest.

Her robes light waving in the breeze,
Her tender limbs embrace;

Her lovely form, her native ease,
All harmony and grace:

Tumultuous tides his pulses roll,

A faltering, ardent kiss he stole ;

He gaz'd, he wish'd, he fear'd, he blush'd,
And sigh'd his very soul.

As flies the partridge from the brake,
On fear-inspired wings,

So Nelly starting, half awake,

Away affrighted springs:

But Willie follow'd, as he should,
He overtook her in the wood;

He vow'd, he pray'd, he found the maid
Forgiving all and good.

MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS.
Tune-"Failte na Miosg."

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here:

My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer:

Chasing the wild deer, and following the rocMy heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,

The birth-place of valour, the country of worth; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,

The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. Farewell to the mountains high covered with

TO MARY IN HEAVEN.226 Tune-"Death of Captain Cook." THOU ling'ring star, with less'ning ray, That lov'st to greet the early morn, Again thou usher'st in the day

My Mary from my soul was torn. Oh Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast! That sacred hour can I forget,

Can I forget the hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love! Eternity will not efface

Those records dear of transports past; Thy image at our last embrace;

Ah! little thought we 'twas our last! Ayr, gurgling, kiss'd his pebbled shore, O'erhung with wild woods, thick'ning green! The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, Twin'd am'rous round the raptur'd scene; The flow'rs sprang wanton to be prest, The birds sang love on every sprayTill soon, too soon, the glowing west Proclaim'd the speed of winged day. Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes, And fondly broods with miser care! Time but th' impression stronger makes, As streams their channels deeper wear. My Mary! dear departed shade!

Where is thy place of blissful rest?" See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?

YOUNG JOCKEY.

Tune-"Young Jockey."
YOUNG JOCKEY was the blythest lad
In a' our town or here awa':
Fu' blythe he whistled at the gaud,
Fu' lightly danced he in the ha'.
He roosed my e'en, sae bonnie blue,
He roosed my waist sae genty sma',
And aye my heart came to my mou'
When ne'er a body heard or saw.

My Jockey toils upon the plain,

Thro' wind and weet, thro' frost and snaw: And o'er the lea I leuk fu' vain,

When Jockey's owsen hameward ca'.
And aye the night comes round again,
When in his arms he takes me a',

And aye he vows he'll be my ain,
As lang's he has a breath to draw.

I DO CONFESS THOU ART SAE FAIR.

I DO confess thou art sac fair,

I wad been owre the lugs in love,
Had I na found the slightest prayer,
Thy lips could speak, thy heart could move.

I do confess thee sweet, but find
Thou art sae thriftless o' thy sweets,
Thy favours are the silly wind,
That kisses ilka things it meets.

See yonder rose-bud, rich in dew,
Amang its native briers sae coy;
How sune it times its scent and hue
When pou'd and worn a common toy!
Sic fate, ere lang, shall thee betide,
Tho' thou may gaily bloom awhile!
Yet soon thou shalt be thrown aside,
Like ony common weed and vile.

Owre moors and owre mosses and mony a glen, At length they discover'd a bonnie moor-hen. 1 red you beware at the hunting, young men;

I red you beware at the hunting, young

men;

Tak some on the wing, and some as they spring,

But cannily steal on a bonnie moor-hen. Sweet brushing the dew from the brown heather bells,

Her colours betray'd her on yon mossy fells; Her plumage out-lustred the pride o' the spring, And oh! as she wantoned gay on the wing.

I red you beware, &c.

O would I had not seen the day
That treason thus could fell us,
My auld grey head had lien in clay,
Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace!
But pith and power, till my last hour,
I'll mak this declaration;

We're bought and sold for English gold:-
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

THE EXCISEMAN .228

Tune "The deil cam fiddling through the town."

THE deil cam fiddling through the town,
And danced awa' wi' the Exciseman,

In spite at her plumage he tried his skill;

He levell'd his rays where she bask'd on the

brae

His eyes were outshone, and but mark'd where she lay.

I red you beware, &c.

They hunted the valley, they hunted the hill; The best of our lads wi' the best o' their skill; But still as the fairest she sat in their sight, Then, whirr! she was over, a mile at a fight. I red you beware, &c.

KENMURE'S ON AND AWA'.227 Tune-"Oh Kenmure's on and awa', Willie !" Он, Kenmure's on and awa', Willic!

Oh, Kenmure's on and awa'!

And Kenmure's lord's the bravest lord
That ever Galloway saw.

Success to Kenmure's band, Willie!
Success to Kenmure's band;

There's no a heart that fears a Whig,
That rides by Kenmure's hand.

Here's Kenmure's health in wine, Willic!
Here's Kenmure's health in wine;

There ne'er was a coward o' Kenmure's blude,
Nor yet o' Gordon's line.

Oh, Kenmure's lads are men. Willie!
Oh, Kenmure's lads are inen;

Their hearts and swords are metal truc-
And that their faes shall ken.

They'll live or die wi' fame, Willic!
They'll live or die wi' fame;
But soon, wi' sounding victorie,
May Kénmure's lord come hame!

Here's him that's far awa', Willie!
Here's him that's far awa'!

And here's the flower that I lo'e best-
The rose that's like the snaw!

I wish you luck o' the prize man!"
The deil's awa', the deil's awa',

The deil's awa' wi' the Exciseman;
He's danc'd awa', he's danc'd awa',

He's danc'd awa' wi' the Exciseman!

We'll mak our maut, we'll brew our drink,
We'll dance, and sing, and rejoice, man:
And mony braw thanks to the meikle black deil
That danc'd awa' wi' the Exciseman!
The deil's awa', the deil's awa',
The deil's awa' wi' the Exciseman;
He's danc'd awa', he's danc'd awa',

He's danc'd awa' wi' the Exciseman!

There's theesome reels, there's foursome reels,
There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man:
But the ae best dance e'er came to the land,
Was-the deil's awa' wi' the Exciseman!
The deil's awa', the deil's awa',

The deil's awa' wi' the Excsieman:
He's danc'd awa', he's danc'd awa',
He's danc'd awa' wi' the Exciseman!

I'LL AYE CA' IN BY YON TOWN. Tune-"I'll gae nae mair to yon town.'

I'LL aye ca' in by yon town,

And by yon garden green, again;

I'll aye ca' in by yon town,

And see my bonnie Jean again;

There's nane sall ken, there's nane sall guess, What brings me back the gate again;

But she, my fairest, faithfu' lass,

And stowlins we sall meet again.

She'll wander by the aiken tree,

When trystin'-time draws near again; And when her love form I see,

Oh, haith, she's doubly dear again!

I'll aye ca' in by yon town,

And by yon garden green, again;

I'll aye ca' in by yon town,

And see my bonnie Jean again.

COULD OUGHT OF SONG.
Tune-"At setting day."

COULD aught of song declare my pains,
Could artful numbers move thee,
The Muse should tell, in labour'd strains,
Oh Mary, how I love thee!

They who but feign a wounded heart
May teach the lyre to languish;

But what avails the pride of art,

When wastes the soul with anguish?

Then let the sudden bursting sigh
The heart-felt pang discover;
And in the keen, yet tender eye,
Oh read th' imploring lover!
For well I know thy gentle mind
Disdains art's gay disguising;
Beyond what fancy e'er refin'd,
The voice of nature prizing.