O SAW YE MY DEAR, ETC.

Fain would I hide what I fear to discover,
Yet long, long too well have I known:
All that has caus'd this wreck in my bosom,
Is Jenny, fair Jenny alone.

Time cannot aid me, my griefs are immortal,
Not hope dare a comfort bestow:

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Come, then, enamour'd and fond of my anguish
Enjoyment I'll seek in my woe.

O SAW ye my dear, my Phely?

O saw ye my dear, my Phely?

She s down i' the grove, she's wi' a new love,
She winna come hame to her Willy.

What says she, my dearest, my Phely?
What says she, my dearest, my Phely?
She lets thee to wit that she has thee forgot,
And for ever disowns thee, her Willy.

O had I ne'er seen thee, my Phely!
O had I ne'er seen thee, my Phely!
As light as the air, and fause as thou's fair,
Thou'st broken the heart o' thy Willy.

THOU HAST LEFT ME EVER, JAMIE.'
TUNE-" FEE HIM, FATHER."

THOU hast left me ever, Jamie,
Thou hast left me ever;
Thou hast left me ever, Jamie,

Thou hast left me ever.

Aften has thou vow'd that death

Only should us sever;

Now thou'st left thy lass for aye

I maun see thee never, Jamie,

I'll see thee never!

1 This song was written, as the author tells us, "by the lee side of a bowl of punch," which had already conquered every other guest

Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie,
Thou hast me forsaken;
Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie,
Thou hast me forsaken.
Thou canst love anither jo,
While my heart is breaking;
Soon my weary een I'll close
Never mair to waken, Jamie,
Ne'er mair to waken!

MY CHLORIS.

TUNE-"MY LODGING IS ON THE COLD GROUND.

My Chloris, mark how green the groves,'
The primrose banks how fair:
The balmy gales awake the flowers,
And wave thy flaxen hair.

The lav'rock shuns the palace gay,
And o'er the cottage sings:
For nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
To shepherd's, as to kings.

Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string
In lordly lighted ha';

The shepherd stops his simple reed,
Blithe in the birken shaw.

The princely revel may survey
Our rustic dance wi' scorn;

But are their hearts as light as ours
Beneath the milk-white thorn?

The shepherd, in the flowery glen,
In shepherd's phrase will woo:
The courtier tells a finer tale;-
But is his heart as true?

These wild-wood flowers I've pu'd, to deck
That spotless breast of thine:

The courtiers' gems may witness love

But 'tis na love like mine.

On my visit the other day to my fair Chloris (that is the poetie name of the lovely goddess of my inspiration) she suggested an idea, which I, on my return from the visit, wrought into the following song.-To Mr. Thomson, Nov., 1794.

LET NOT WOMAN E'ER COMPLAIN. 329

CHARMING MONTH OF MAY.'

TUNE-"DAINTY DAVIE."

It was the charming month of May,
When all the flowers were fresh and gay,
One morning, by the break of day,
The youthful, charming Chloe;

From peaceful slumber she arose,
Girt on her mantle and her hose,
And o'er the flowery mead she goes,
The youthful, charming Chloe.

CHORUS.

Lovely was she by the dawn,
Youthful Chloe, charming Chloe,
Tripping o'er the pearly lawn,

The youthful, charming Chloe.
The feather'd people you might see
Perch'd all around on every tree,
In notes of sweetest melody
They hail the charming Chloe:

Till, painting gay the eastern skies,
The glorious sun began to rise,
Out-rivall'd by the radiant eyes
Of youthful, charming Chloe.
Lovely was she, &c.

LET NOT WOMAN E'ER COMPLAIN.

TUNE-" DUNCAN GRAY."

LET not woman e'er complain
Of inconstancy in love;
Let not woman e'er complain,
Fickle man is apt to rove:

Look abroad through Nature's range,
Nature's mighty law is change;

Ladies, would it not be strange,

Man should then a monster prove?

"Cut down." to adopt the phrase of Burns, from a song in

Kamsay's Tea-Table Miscellany."

Mark the winds, and mark the skies;
Ocean's ebb, and ocean's flow:
Sun and moon but set to rise;
Round and round the seasons go.

Why then ask of silly man.
To oppose great Nature's plan?
We'll be constant while we can-
You can be no more, you know.

O PHILLY.'

TUNE "THE SOW'S TAIL."

HE.

O PHILLY, happy be that day

When, roving through the gather'd hay,
My youthfu' heart was stown away,
And by thy charms, my Philly.

SHE.

O Willy, aye I bless the grove

Where first I own'd my maiden love,
Whilst thou didst pledge the Powers above
To be my ain dear Willy.

HE.

As songsters of the early year
Are ilka day mair sweet to hear,
So ilka day to me mair dear

And charming is my Philly.

SHE.

As on the brier the budding rose
Still richer breathes and fairer blows,
So in my tender bosom grows

The love I bear my Willy.

HE.

The milder sun and bluer sky,

That crown my harvest cares wi' joy,

Were ne'er sae welcome to my eye,

As is a sight o' Philly.

These verses were composed in a morning walk, "through a keen-blowing fro t,'

JOHN BARLEYCORN.

SHE.

The little swallow's wantor wing,
Tho' wafting o'er the flowery spring,
Did ne'er to me sic tidings bring,
As meeting o' my Willy

HE.

The bee that thro' the sunny hour
Sips nectar in the opening flower,
Compar'd wi' my delight is poor,
Upon the lips o' Philly.

SHE.

The woodbine in the dewy weet,
When evening shades in silence meet,
Is nocht sae fragrant or sae sweet
As is a kiss o' Willy.

HE.

Let fortune's wheel at random rin,
And fools may tyne, and knaves may win
My thoughts are a' bound up in ane,
And that's my ain dear Philly.

SHE.

What's a' the joys that gowd can gie!
I care na wealth a single flie;
The lad I love's the lad for me,
And that's my ain dear Willy.

JOHN BARLEYCORN.

A BALLAD.

THERE were three Kings into the east,
Three Kings both great and high;
An' they hae sworn a solemn oath

John Barleycorn should die.

They took a plough and plough'd him down,

Put clods upon his head;

And they hae sworn a solemn oath

John Barleycorn was dead.

But the cheerful Spring came kindly on,

And showers began to fall;

John Barleycorn got up again,

And sore surpris'd them all.

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