I've liv'd a life of sturt and strife; It burns my heart I must depart, Sae rantingly, &c. Now farewell light, thou sunshine bright, And all beneath the sky! May coward shame distain his name, The wretch that dares not die! STAY MY CHARMER Tune "An gille dubh ciar-dhubh." STAY my charmer, can you leave me? Well you know how much you grieve me; Cruel charmer, can you go! By my love so ill-requited, Do not, do not leave me so! SONG MY HOGGIE WHAT Will I do gin my Hoggie die? My joy, my pride, my Hoggie! My only beast, I had nae mae, And vow but I was vogie! The lee-lang night we watch'd the fauld, We heard nocht but the roaring linn, But the houlet cry'd frae the castle wa', The tod reply'd upon the hill, I trembled for my Hoggie. When day did daw, and cocks did craw, An unco tyke, lap o'er the dyke, And maist has kill'd my Hoggie! RAVING WINDS AROUND HER BLOWING Tune "M'Grigor of Roro's Lament.” I composed these verses on Miss Isabella M'Leod of Raza, alluding to her feelings on the death of her sister, and the still more melancholy death of her sister's husband, the late Earl of Loudoun, who shot himself out of sheer heart-break at some mortifications he suffered, owing to the deranged state of his finances.-R. B., 1791. RAVING winds around her blowing, Isabella stray'd deploring "Farewell, hours that late did measure "O'er the past too fondly wandering, "Life, thou soul of every blessing, UP IN THE MORNING EARLY CAULD blaws the wind frae east to west, Sae loud and shill's I hear the blast- Chorus.-Up in the morning's no for me, When a' the hills are covered wi' snaw, The birds sit chittering in the thorn, And lang's the night frae e'en to morn- Up in the morning's, &c. HOW LONG AND DREARY IS THE NIGHT How long and dreary is the night, When I am frae my dearie! When I think on the happy days And now what lands between us lie, How can I be but eerie! And now what lands between us lie, How can I be but eerie! How slow ye move, ye heavy hours, When I was wi' my dearie! It wasna sae ye glinted by, HEY, THE DUSTY MILLER HEY, the dusty Miller, And his dusty coat, He will win a shilling, Or he spend a groat: Dusty was the coat, That I gat frae the Miller. Hey, the dusty Miller, And his dusty sack; For the dusty Miller. DUNCAN DAVISON THERE was a lass, they ca'd her Meg, They ca'd him Duncan Davison. The moor was dreigh, and Meg was skeigh, As o'er the moor they lightly foor, A burn was clear, a glen was green, That Meg should be a bride the morn; We will big a wee, wee house, And we will live like king and queen; Sae blythe and merry's we will be, When ye set by the wheel at e'en. A man may kiss a bonie lass, THE LAD THEY CA' JUMPIN JOHN HER daddie forbad, her minnie forbad She wadna trow't the browst she brew'd, Chorus. The lang lad they ca' Jumpin John The lang lad they ca' Jumpin John A cow and a cauf, a yowe and a hauf, TALK OF HIM THAT'S FAR AWA MUSING on the roaring ocean, Hope and Fear's alternate billow Ye whom sorrow never wounded, Gentle night, do thou befriend me, Spirits kind, again attend me, Talk of him that's far awa! |