We dare na weel say't, but we ken wha's to blame,— There'll never be peace till Jamie comes name. My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword, But now I greet round their green beds in the yerd; It brak the sweet heart o' my faithful auld dame,— There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame. Now life is a burden that bows me down, SONG—OUT OVER THE FORTH Out over the Forth, I look to the North; But I look to the west when I gae to rest, That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be; For far in the west lives he I loe best, The man that is dear to my babie and me. THE BANKS O' DOON FIRST VERSION Sweet are the banks—the banks o' Doon, And everything is blythe and glad, But I am fu' o' care. Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings upon the bough; Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause Luve was true: Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird, Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon, Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, But my fause Luver staw my rose, And sae I flourished on the morn, THE BANKS O' DOON SECOND VERSION Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon, And I sae fu' o' care! Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings upon the bough! Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause Luve was true. Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird, That sings beside thy mate; For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o' my fate. Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon, Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, But my fause Luver staw my rose, And sae I flourished on the morn, THE BANKS O' DOON THIRD VERSION Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon, And I sae weary fu' o' care! Thou'll break my heart, thou warbling bird, Departed never to return. Aft hae I rov'd by Bonie Doon, To see the rose and woodbine twine: And fondly sae did I o' mine; LAMENT FOR JAMES, EARL OF GLENCAIRN The wind blew hollow frae the hills, By fits the sun's departing beam Look'd on the fading yellow woods, That wav'd o'er Lugar's winding stream: Beneath a craigy steep, a Bard, Whom Death had all untimely ta'en. He lean'd him to an ancient aik, Whose trunk was mould'ring down with years; His locks were bleached white with time, His hoary cheek was wet wi' tears! And as he touch'd his trembling harp, And as he tun'd his doleful sang, The winds, lamenting thro' their caves, To Echo bore the notes alang. 66 Ye scatter'd birds that faintly sing, Can gladness bring again to me. "I am a bending aged tree, That long has stood the wind and rain; But now has come a cruel blast, And my last hald of earth is gane; Nae leaf o' mine shall greet the spring, Nae simmer sun exalt my bloom; But I maun lie before the storm, And ithers plant them in my room. "I've seen sae mony changefu' years, I bear alane my lade o' care, For silent, low, on beds of dust, Lie a' that would my sorrows share. "And last, (the sum of a' my griefs!) His country's pride, his country's stay: For a' the life of life is dead, And hope has left my aged ken, On forward wing for ever fled. "Awake thy last sad voice, my harp! The voice of woe and wild despair! Awake, resound thy latest lay, Then sleep in silence evermair! And thou, my last, best, only friend, That fillest an untimely tomb, Accept this tribute from the Bard Thou brought from Fortune's mirkest gloom. "In Poverty's low barren vale, Thick mists obscure involv'd me round; "O! why has worth so short a date, A day to me so full of woe? "The bridegroom may forget the bride Was made his wedded wife yestreen; The monarch may forget the crown That on his head an hour has been; |