HEY FOR A LASS WI' A TOCHER. He begged, for Gudesake! I wad be his wife, Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow: So e'en to preserve the poor body in life, 91 I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow, I think I maun wed him to-morrow. HEY FOR A LASS WI' A TOCHER. TUNE-Ballinamona ora. AWA wi' your witchcraft o' beauty's alarms, CHORUS. Then hey, for a lass wi' a tocher, then hey, for a lass wi' a tocher, Then hey, for a lass wi a tocher; the nice yellow guineas for me. Your beauty's a flower in the morning that blows, knowes, And e'en when this beauty your bosom has blest, The brightest o' beauty may cloy, when possest; But the sweet yellow darlings wi' Geordie imprest, The langer ye hae them-the mair they're carest. Then hey, &c. ALTHO' THOU MAUN NEVER BE MINE. TUNE-Here's a health to them that's awa, hiney. CHORUS. Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear, Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear; Thou art as sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet, ALTHO' thou maun never be mine, I mourn thro' the gay, gaudy day, As, hopeless, I muse on thy charms: But welcome the dream o' sweet slumber, For then I am lockt in thy arms-Jessy! Here's a health, &c. I guess by the dear angel smile, I guess by the love-rolling ee; But why urge the tender confession 'Gainst fortune's fell cruel decree-Jessy! Here's a health, &c. FULL WELL THOU KNOW'ST. TUNE-Rothiemurchus. CHORUS. Fairest maid on Devon banks, Crystal Devon, winding Devon, Wilt thou lay that frown aside, And smile as thou were wont to do? THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY. FULL Well thou know'st I love thee dear, Then come, thou fairest of the fair, No love but thine my heart shall know. 93 THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY. CHORUS. Bonnie lassie, will ye go, will ye go, will ye go, Bonnie lassie, &c. While o'er their heads the hazels hing, Or lightly flit on wanton wing The braes ascend like lofty wa's, Bonnie lassie, &c. VOL. II. I The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers, Let fortune's gifts at random flee, STAY, MY CHARMER. TUNE-An Gille dubh ciar dhubh. STAY, my charmer, can you leave me? Well you know how much you grieve me; By my love so ill requited; THICKEST NIGHT. TUNE-Strathallan's Lament. THICKEST night, o'erhang my dwelling! Howling tempests, o'er me rave! Turbid torrents, wintry swelling, Still surround my lonely cave! THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER. 95 Crystal streamlets gently flowing, In the cause of right engag'd, But the heavens deny'd success. THE YOUNG HIGHLAND ROVER. TUNE-Morag. LOUD blaw the frosty breezes, The snaws the mountains cover; Since my young Highland Rover The birdies dowie moaning, Shall a' be blithly singing, My youth's return'd to fair Strathspey, |