How sweet the brow on yon hill cheek. Oft has the lark sung o'er my head, And shook the dew-draps frae her wing: Oft hae my flocks forgot to feed, And round their shepherd form'd a ring; Their looks condole the lee-lang day, While mine are fix'd and canna vary; Oft hae they listen'd to my lay Of faith and love to Bonny Mary. When Phoebus mounts frae Crawford-muir, The feeble in my arms I carry; 'When gloamin' o'er the welkin steals, And haps the hills in sober gray; And bitterns, in their airy wheels, Amuse the wanderer on his way: Regardless of the wind and rain, With cautious step and prospect wary, I often trace the lonely glen To get a sight of Bonny Mary. When midnight draws her curtain deep, Their watch around the couch of Mary. The exile may forget his home, Where blooming youth to manhood grew; The bee forget the honey-comb, Nor with the spring his toil renew; The sun may lose his light and heat; The planets in their rounds miscarry ; But my fond heart shall cease to beat When I forget my Bonny Mary. MY BLYTHE AN' BONNY LASSIE. Tune-Neil Gow's Farewell to Whiskey. Her streams sae pure an' glassy, O; The night was short, the day was lang, Gae part wi' that dear lassie, O. Wi' aching heart I left my Jean, My blythe an' bonny lassie, O. Her form is gracefu' as the pine; Her smile the sunshine after rain; Her nature cheerfu', frank an' kind, An' neither proud nor saucy, O. The ripest cherry on the tree Was ne'er sae pure or meek to see, Nor half sae sweet its juice to me, As a kiss o' my dear lassie, O. Whate'er I do, whate'er I be, Yon glen shall ay be dear to me; Her banks and howms sae fair to see; Her braes sae green an' grassy, 0: For there my hopes are centred a'; An' there my heart was stol'n awa'; An' there my Jeanie first I say!! My blythe an' bonny lassie, O. THE BRAES OF BUSHBY. Lamentin' for her Johnny, O. Was Bushby braes are bonny, O. On Bushby braes where blossoms blow, Where blooms the brier an' sulky slor, There first I met my only joe, My dear, my faithfu' Johnny, O; The grove was dark, sae dark an' sweet; Where first my lad an' I did meet ; The roses blush'd around our feet: Then Bushby braes were bonny, O. Departed joys, how soft! how dear! My lad is in the Baltic gane But 'tis maistly for my Johnny, O. THE HAY-MAKERS. Tune-Coming through the Rye. "My lassie, how I'm charm'd wi' you 'Tis needless now to tell; But a' the flowers the meadow through, Ye're sweetest ay yoursel'; I canna sleep a wink by night, Nor think a thought by day; Your image smiles afore my sight Whate'er I do or say." "Fye, Jamie! dinna act the part "My bonny lassie, come away, The rose an' hawthorn bud I'll twine “Aye, Jamie, ye wad steal my heart An' a' my peace frae me; An' fix my feet within the net, Ere I my error see. I trow ye'll wale the flowery race "How can my lassie be sae tart, "Then tak my hand, ye hae my heart; There's nane I like sae weel; An' Heaven grant I act my part To ane so true an' leal. This bonny day amang the hay, I'll mind till death us twine; An' often bless the happy day That made my laddie mine." BAULDY FRASER. Tune-Whigs o' Fife. My name is Bauldy Fraser, man; Sic hurly-burly ne'er was seen, SCOTIA'S GLENS. Tune-Lord Ballandine's Delight. New set. 'MONG Scotia's glens an' mountains blue, Nor Danish lions rallied; By foreign yoke ne'er galled. While hearts so brave defend her. "Fear not, our Sov'reign liege," they cry, "We've flourish'd fair beneath thine eye, For thee we'll fight, for thee we'll die, Nor aught but life surrender. Since thou hast watch'd our every need, Nor heart nor hand shall waver. Though nations join yon tyrant's arm, THE SKYLARK. BIRD of the wilderness, Blythesome and cumberless, Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea! Emblem of happiness, Bless'd in thy dwelling-place O to abide in the desert with thee! Wild is thy lay and loud, Love gives it energy, love gave it birth. Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth. O'er the red streamer that heralds the day, Over the cloudlet dim, Over the rainbow's rim, Musical cherub, soar, singing, away! Then, when the gloaming comes, Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be, Blest is thy dwelling-place O to abide in the desert with thee! WHEN THE KYE COMES HAME. COME all ye jolly shepherds, I'll tell ye of a secret That courtiers dinna ken: What is the greatest bliss That the tongue of man can name? 'Tis to woo a bonny lassie When the kye comes hame. When the kye comes hame, 'Tis not beneath the coronet, When the kye comes hame, etc. There the blackbird bigs his nest Oh, a happy bird is he; When the kye comes hame, etc. When the blewart bears a pearl, And the bonny lucken gowan Then the laverock frae the blue lift Droops down, an' thinks nae shame To woo his bonny lassie When the kye comes hame, When the kye comes hame, etc. See yonder pawkie shepherd, His ewes are in the fauld, An' his lambs are lying still; When the kye comes hame. When the kye comes hame, etc. When the little wee bit heart Oh there's a joy sae dear That the heart can hardly frame, Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie, When the kye comes hame! When the kye comes hame, etc. Then since all Nature joins In this love without alloy, When the kye comes hame, 'Tween the gloamin' an' the mirk, When the kye comes hame! |