MY HEART WAS ANCE AS BLITHE AND FREE. Tune-"To the weavers gin ye go." My heart was ance as blithe and free To the weavers gin ye go, fair maids I rede you right gang ne'er at night, My mither sent me to the town, But the weary, weary warpin' o't A bonnie westlin weaver lad I sat beside my warpin'-wheel, The moon was sinking in the west But what was said, or what was done, But, oh! I fear the kintra soon Will ken as weel's mysel'. To the weavers gin ye go, fair maids, I rede you right gang ne'er at night, GUDE'EN TO YOU, KIMMER. Tune-"We're a' noddin'." GUDE 'EN to you, kimmer, And how do ye do? Hiccup, quo kimmer, The better that I'm fou. We're a' noddin', nid, nid, noddin', We're a' noddin' at our house at hame. Kate sits i' the neuk, Suppin' hen broo; De'il tak' Kate, An' she be na noddin' too! How's a' wi' you, kimmer, And how do ye fare? How's a' wi' you, kimmer, Are they a' Johnny's? Twa o' them were gotten When Johnny was awa'. Cats like milk, And dogs like broo, Lads like lasses weel, And lasses lads too. We're a' noddin', nid, nid, noddin', We're a' noddin' at our house at hame.' 1 There is another version of the sixth verse and the chorus in a letter to Mr. Robert Ainslie, jun., dated 23rd of August, 1787, which we subjoin: The cats like kitchen; The dogs like broo; The lasses like the lads weel, And th' auld wives too. CHORUS. And were a' noddin', Nid, nid, noddin', We're a' noddin' fou at e'en. A FRAGMENT. Tune-" John Anderson my Jo." ONE night as I did wander, That echoed through the braes. O WHY THE DEUCE SHOULD I REPINE? [Written extempore, April, 1782.] O WHY the deuce should I repine, I'm twenty-three, and five feet nine- I gat some gear wi' meikle care, But now it's gane, and something mair- MY NANNIE, O! Tune" My Nannie, O." [The heroine of this song was Nannie Fleming, a servant at Calcothill, near Lochlea.] BEHIND yon hills, where Lugar1 flows, The westlin' wind blows loud an' shrill; My Nannie's charming, sweet, an' young; Her face is fair, her heart is true, 2 A country lad is my degree, An' few there be that ken me, O; My riches a's my penny-fee, An' I maun guide it cannie, O. Our auld guidman delights to view Come weel, come woe, I care na by, But live an' love my Nannie, O. Originally Stinchar. ? Daisy. |