Again, again that tender part,
That I may catch thy melting art,
For surely that wad touch her heart,
Wha kills me wi' disdaining.
Say, was thy little mate unkind,
And heard thee as the careless wind?
Oh, nocht but love and sorrow join'd
Sic notes o' wae could wauken.
Thou tells o' never-ending care;
O' speechless grief and dark despair;
For pity's sake, sweet bird, nae mair!
Or my poor heart is broken.
TUNE-Humours of Glen.
Their groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon,
Where bright-beaming summers exalt the perfume;
Far dearer to me yon lone glen o' green breckan,
Wi' the burn stealing under the lang yellow broom.
Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers,
Where the blue-bell and gowan lurk lowly unseen:
For there, lightly tripping amang the wild flowers,
A listening the linnet, aft wanders my Jean.
Though rich is the breeze in their gay sunny valleys,
And cauld Caledonia's blast on the wave; [palace,
Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the proud
What are they? The haunt of the tyrant and slave!
The slave's spicy forests, and gold-bubbling fountains,
The brave Caledonian views wi' disdain;
He wanders as free as the winds of his mountains,
Save love's willing fetters, the chains o' his Jean.
TUNE-The Lothian Lassie.
Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen,
And sair wi' his love he did deave me :
I said there was naething I hated like men:
The deuce gae wi'm to believe me, believe me,
The deuce gae wi'm to believe me.
He spak o' the darts in my bonnie black een,
And vow'd for my love he was dying;
I said he might die when he liked for Jean :
The Lord forgie me for lying, for lying,
The Lord forgie me for lying!
A weel-stocked mailen, himsel for the laird,
And marriage aff-hand, were his proffers:
I never loot on that I kenn'd it, or car'd,
But thought I might hae waur offers, waur offers,
But thought I might hae waur offers.
But what wad ye think? in a fortnight or less,
The deil tak his taste to gae near her!
He up the lang loan to my black cousin Bess:
Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her, could
bear her,
Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her.
But a' the niest week as I fretted wi' care,
I gaed to the tryste o' Dalgarnock,
And wha but my fine fickle lover was there?
I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock,
I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock.
But owre my left shouther I gae him a blink,
Lest neebors might say I was saucy;
My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink,
And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie,
And vow'd I was his dear lassie.
I spier'd for my cousin fu' couthy and sweet,
Gin she had recover'd her hearin,
And how her new shoon fit her auld shachl't feet
But, heavens! how he fell a swearin, a swearin,
But, heavens! how he fell a swearin!
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,
I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow, I think I maun wed him to-morrow.
-Here's a health to them that's away, hiney.
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, And soft as their parting tear-Jessy!
Although thou maun never be mine,
Although even hope is denied ;
'Tis sweeter for thee despairing,
Than aught in the world beside Jessy!
Here's a health, &c.
I mourn through 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.
TUNE-The Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonnie lassie, will ye go, will ye go, will ye go,
Bonnie lassie, will ye go to the Birks of Aberfeldy ?
Now simmer blinks on flowery braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays,
Come let us spend the lightsome days
In the Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonnie lassie, &c.
While o'er their heads the hazels hing,
The little birdies blithly sing,
Or lightly flit on wanton wing
In the Birks of Aberfeldy.
Bonnie lassie, &c.
The braes ascend like lofty wa's,
The foaming stream deep roaring fa's,
O'er-hung wi' fragrant spreading shaws,
The Birks of Aberfeldy.
The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers,
White o'er the linns the burnie pours,
And rising, weets wi' misty showers
The Birks of Aberfeldy.
Let fortune's gifts at random flee,
They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me,
Supremely blest wi' love and thee,
In the Birks of Aberfeldy.
TUNE M'Gregor of Ruara's Lament.
Raving winds around her blowing,
Yellow leaves the woodlands strowing,
By a river hoarsely roaring,
Isabella stray'd deploring.
"Farewell, hours that late did measure
Sunshine days of joy and pleasure;
Hail, thou gloomy night of sorrow,
Cheerless night that knows no morrow!
"O'er the past too fondly wandering,
On the hopeless future pondering;
Chilly grief my life-blood freezes,
Fell despair my fancy seizes.
Life, thou soul of every blessing,
Load to misery most distressing,
O how gladly I'd resign thee,
And to dark oblivion join thee !"
TUNE-Seventh of November. The day returns, my bosom burns,
The blissful day we twa did meet ;
Though winter wild in tempest toil'd,
Ne'er summer-sun was half sae sweet.
Than a' the pride that loads the tide,
And crosses o'er the sultry line;
Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes,
Heaven gave me more, it made thee mine.
While day and night can bring delight,
Or nature aught of pleasure give;
While joys above my mind can move,
For thee, and thee alone, I live!
When that grim foe of life below
Comes in between to make us part;
The iron hand that breaks our band,
It breaks my bliss-it breaks my heart.
TUNE-My love is lost to me.
O, were I on Parnassus' hill,
Or had of Helicon my fill !
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