But what wad ye think? in a fortnight or less, 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, But owre my left shouther I gae him a blink, I spier'd for my cousin fu' couthy and sweet, And how her new shoon fit her auld shackl't feet, He begged, for Gudesake! I wad be his wife, 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, FRAGMENT. Fune, The Caledonian Hunt's Delight.' WHY, why tell thy lover, Bliss he never must enjoy? And give all his hopes the lie? O why, while fancy, raptur'd, slumbers, Why, why wouldst thou cruel, HEY FOR A LASS WP A TOCHER. Tune, Balinamona 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, And withers the faster, the faster it grows; But the rapturous charm o' the bonnie green knowes, Ilk spring they're new deckit wi'bonnie white yowes. Then hey, &c. 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. SONG. Turte, '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 sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet, And soft as their parting tear-Jessy! ALTHO' thou maun never be mine, Altho' even hope is denied ; 'Tis sweeter for thee despairing, Than aught in the world beside Jessy! Here's a health, &c. I mourn thro' the gay, gaudy day, 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, SONG. Tune, 'Rothermurche." CHORUS. Fairest maid on Devon banks, Crystal Devon, winding Devon, Wilt thou lay that frown aside, And smile as thou were wont to do? FULL Well thou know'st I love thee dear, O, did not love exclaim, 'Forbear, Then come, thou fairest of the fair, No love but thine my heart shall know. 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, While o'er their heads the hazels hing, Or lightly flit on wanton wing The braes ascend like lofty wa's, The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flowers, Bonnie lassie, &c. Let fortune's gifts at random flee, Bonnie lassie, &c. |