« IndietroContinua »
WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU, MY LAD Chorus.-O WHISTLE, an' I'll come to ye, my lad,
O whistle, an' I'll come to ye, my lad,
Tho' father an' mother an' a' should gae mad,
But warily tent when ye come to court me,
At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me,
Aye vow and protest that ye care na for me,
PHILLIS THE QUEEN O' THE FAIR
Tune "The Muckin o' Geordie's Byre."
To mark the sweet flowers as they spring;
Of Phillis to muse and to sing.
Chorus.-Awa' wi' your belles and your beauties,
They never wi' her can compare,
Whaever has met wi' my Phillis,
The daisy amus'd my fond fancy,
The rose-bud's the blush o' my charmer,
Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,
Her voice is the song o' the morning,
That wakes thro' the green-spreading grove
But beauty, how frail and how fleeting!
Awa' wi' your belles, &c.
COME, LET ME TAKE THEE TO MY BREAST
COME, let me take thee to my breast,
And I shall spurn as vilest dust
The world's wealth and grandeur:
And do I hear my Jeanie own
I ask for dearest life alone,
Thus, in my arms, wi' a' her charms,
Than sic a moment's pleasure:
Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
Chorus.-Meet me on the warlock knowe, Dainty Davie, Dainty Davie; There I'll spend the day wi' you, My ain dear Dainty Davie.
The crystal waters round us fa',
As purple morning starts the hare,
When day, expiring in the west,
And that's my ain dear Davie.
ROBERT BRUCE'S MARCH TO BANNOCKBURN
SCOTS, wha hae wi' WALLACE bled,
Or to Victorie!
Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See approach proud EDWARD's power-
Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a Slave?
Let him turn and flee!
Wha, for Scotland's King and Law,
By Oppression's woes and pains!
Lay the proud Usurpers low!
LIBERTY'S in every blow!—
Let us Do or Die!
BEHOLD THE HOUR, THE BOAT ARRIVE
BEHOLD the hour, the boat arrive;
Thou goest, the darling of my heart;
But Fate has will'd and we must part.
I'll often greet the surging swell,
Yon distant Isle will often hail:
"E'en here I took the last farewell;
There, latest mark'd her vanish'd sail."
Along the solitary shore,
While flitting sea-fowl round me cry,
I'll westward turn my wistful eye:
DOWN THE BURN, DAVIE
As down the burn they took their
With "Mary, when shall we return,
Quoth Mary-"Love, I like the burn,
And aye shall follow you."
THOU HAST LEFT ME EVER, JAMIE
Tune "Fee him, father, fee him."
THOU hast left me ever, Jamie,
Thou hast left me ever:
Aften hast thou vow'd that Death
Now thou'st left thy lass for aye
I maun see thee never, Jamie,