ADOWN WINDING NITH.

TUNE-The muckin o' Geordie's byre.

ADOWN winding Nith I did wander,
To mark the sweet flowers as they spring;
Adown winding Nith I did wander,
Of Phillis to muse and to sing.

CHORUS.

your

beauties,

Awa wi your belles and
They never wi' her can compare:
Whaever has met wi' my Phillis
Has met wi' the queen o' the fair.

The daisy amus'd my fond fancy,
So artless, so simple, so wild;
Thou emblem, said I, o' my Phillis,
For she is simplicity's child.
Awa, &c.

The rose-bud's the blush o' my charmer,
Her sweet balmy lip when 'tis prest:

How fair and how pure is the lily,
But fairer and purer her breast.
Awa, &c.

Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,
They ne'er wi' my Phillis can vie:
Her breath is the breath o' the woodbine,
Its dew-drop o' diamond, her eye.

Awa, &c.

Her voice is the song of the morning

That wakes through the green-spreading grove, When Phoebus peeps over the mountains, On music, and pleasure, and love.

Awa, &c.

But beauty how frail and how fleeting,
The bloom of a fine summer's day!
While worth in the mind o' my Phillis
Will flourish without a decay.
Awa, &c.

COME, LET ME TAKE THEE.
TUNE-Cauld Kail.

COME, let me take thee to my breast,
And pledge we ne'er shall sunder;
And I shall spurn as vilest dust
The warld's wealth and grandeur:
And do I hear my Jeanie own
That equal transports move her?
I ask for dearest life alone

That I may live to love her.

Thus in my arms, wi' all thy charms,
I clasp my countless treasure;
I'll seek nae mair o' heaven to share,
Than sic a moment's pleasure:
And by thy een, sae bonnie blue,
I swear I'm thine for ever!
And on thy lips I seal my vow,
And break it shall I never.

THOU HAST LEFT ME EVER, JAMIE. TUNE-Fee him, Father.

THOU hast left me ever, Jamie, Thou hast left me ever, [me ever. Thou hast left me, ever, Jamie, Thou hast left Aften hast thou vow'd that death only should us [thee never, Jamie, Now thou'st left thy lass for aye-I maun see I'll see thee never.

sever.

Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie, Thou hast me [forsaken.

forsaken.

Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie, Thou hast me Thou canst love anither jo, while my heart is [waken, Jamie, Soon my weary een I'll close-Never mair to Ne'er mair to waken.

breaking.

WHERE ARE THE JOYS.

TUNE-Saw ye my Father?

WHERE are the joys I have met in the morning,
That danc'd to the lark's early song?
Where is the peace that awaited my wand'ring,
At evening the wild woods among?

No more a-winding the course of yon river,
And marking sweet flow'rets so fair:
No more I trace the light footsteps of pleasure,
But sorrow and sad sighing care.

Is it that summer's forsaken our valleys,
And grim, surly winter is near?

No, no, the bees humming round the gay roses
Proclaim it the pride of the year.

Fain would I hide what I fear to discover,

Yet long, long too well have I known:
All that has caus'd this wreck in my bosom,
Is Jenny, fair Jenny alone.

Time cannot aid me, my griefs are immortal,
Nor hope dare a comfort bestow:
Come then, enamour'd and fond of my anguish,
Enjoyment I'll seek in my woe.

O, SAW YE MY DEAR.

TUNE-When she cam ben she bobbit.

O, SAW ye my dear, my Phely?

O, saw ye my dear, my Phely?

She's down i' the grove, she's wi' a new love,
She winna come hame to her Willy.
What says she, my dearest, my Phely?
What says she, my dearest, my Phely?
She lets thee to wit that she has thee forgot,
And for ever disowns thee her Willy.

O, had I ne'er seen thee, my Phely!
O, had I ne'er seen thee, my Phely!

As light as the air, and fause as thou's fair,
Thou'st broken the heart o' thy Willy.

LET NOT WOMAN E'ER COMPLAIN.

TUNE-Duncan Gray.

LET not woman e'er complain

Of inconstancy in love;

Let not woman e'er complain,

Fickle man is apt to rove:

TO CHLORIS.

Look abroad through Nature's range,
Nature's mighty law is change;
Ladies, would it not be strange,

Man should then a monster prove?
Mark the winds, and mark the skies;
Ocean's ebb, and ocean's flow:
Sun and moon but set to rise,
Round and round the seasons go.
Why then ask of silly man,
To oppose great Nature's plan?
We'll be constant while we can-
You can be no more, you know.

MY CHLORIS.

TUNE-My Lodging is on the cold ground.

My Chloris, mark how green the groves,
The primrose banks how fair:
The balmy gales awake the flowers,
And wave thy flaxen hair.

The lav'rock shuns the palace gay,
And o'er the cottage sings:
For nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
To shepherds as to kings.

Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string
In lordly lighted ha':

The shepherd stops his simple reed,
Blithe, in the birken shaw,

The princely revel may survey

Our rustic dance wi' scorn;

But are their hearts as light as ours

Beneath the milk-white thorn?

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