YE banks and braes o' bonny Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair! How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o' care! Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird, That wantons through the flowering thorn: Thou minds me o' departed joys, Departed-never to return! Oft hae I roved by bonny Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine; And fondly sae did I o' mine. Smiling Spring comes in rejoicing. TUNE-"The Bonny Bell." THE Smiling Spring comes in rejoicing, The flowery Spring leads sunny Summer, Thus seasons dancing, life advancing, Old Time and Nature their changes tell, But never ranging, still unchanging, I adore my bonny Bell. Coming through the Rye. TUNE-"Coming through the Rye." COMING through the rye, poor body, Coming through the rye, She draiglet a' her petticoatie, Coming through the rye. O Jenny's a' wat, poor body, Jenny's seldom dry; She draiglet a' her petticoatie, Gin a body meet a body Gin a body meet a body Is there for Honest Poverty. TUNE-"For a' that, and a' that." Is there for honest poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that? Our toils obscure, and a' that; The man's the gowd for a' that! What though on hamely fare we dine, Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a' that! For a' that, and a' that, Their tinsel show, and a' that; The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that! |