LASSIE WI' THE LINTWHITE LOCKS.

TUNE

"Rothemurche's Rant."

CHORUS.

LASSIE wi' the lintwhite locks,
Bonie lassie, artless lassie,
Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks,
Wilt thou be my dearie, O?

Now nature cleeds the flowery lea,
And a' is young and sweet like thee;
O wilt thou share its joys wi' me,

And say thou❜lt be my dearie, O?
Lassie, &c.

And when the welcome simmer shower
Has cheer'd ilk drooping little flower,
We'll to the breathing woodbine bowe
At sultry noon, my dearie, O.
Lassie, &c.

When Cynthia lights, wi' silver ray,
The weary shearer's hameward way;
Thro' yellow waving fields we'll stray,
And talk o' love, my dearie, O.
Lassie, &c.

And when the howling wintry blast
Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest,
Enclasped to my faithfu' breast,

I'll comfort thee, my dearie, O.
Lassie, &c.

CHLORIS.

O BONIE was yon rosy brier,

That blooms sae far frae haunts o' man; And bonie she, and ah, how dear!

It shaded frae the e'enin' sun.

Yon rose-buds in the morning dew,
How pure amang the leaves sae green!
But purer was the lover's vow

They witness'd in their shade yestreen.

All in its rude and prickly bower,

That crimson rose how sweet and fair! But love is far a sweeter flower, Amid life's thorny path o' care.

The pathless wild, and wimpling burn,
Wi' Chloris in my arms, be mine;
And I the world, nor wish, nor scorn,
Its joys and griefs alike resign.

THE ROSE-BUD.

A ROSE-BUD by my early walk,
Adown a corn-enclosed bawk,
Sae gently bent its thorny stalk,
All on a dewy morning.

Ere twice the shades o' dawn are fled,
In a' its crimson glory spread,
And drooping rich the dewy head,
It scents the early morning.

Within the bush, her covert nest,
A little linnet fondly prest;
The dew sat chilly on her breast
Sae early in the morning.

She soon shall see her tender brood,
The pride, the pleasure o' the wood,
Amang the fresh green leaves bedew'd,
Awake the early morning.

So thou, dear bird, young Jenny fair,
On trembling string or vocal air,
Shall sweetly pay the tender care
That tents thy early morning.

So thou, sweet rose-bud, young and gay,
Shall beauteous blaze upon the day,
And bless the parent's evening ray

That watch'd thy early morning.

THE BIRKS OF ABERFELDY.

CHORUS.

BONIE lassie, will ye go, will ye go, will ye go,

Bonie lassie, will ye go to the birks of Aberfeldy ?

Now simmer blinks on flow'ry braes, And o'er the crystal streamlet plays, Come, let us spend the lightsome days In the birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonie lassie, &c.

While o'er their heads the hazels hing,
The little birdies blithely sing,

Or lightly flit, on wanton wing,
In the birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonie lassie, &c.

The braes ascend like lofty wa's,
The foaming stream deep-roaring fa's,
O'erhung wi' fragrant, spreading shaws,
The birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonie lassie, &c.

The hoary cliffs are crown'd wi' flow'rs, While o'er the linns the burnie pours, And, rising, weets, wi' misty show'rs, The birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonie lassie, &c.

Let Fortune's gifts at random flee, They ne'er shall draw a wish frae me, Supremely blest wi' love and thee,

In the birks of Aberfeldy.

Bonie lassie, &c

THIS IS NO MY AIN LASSIE. TUNE-"This is no my ain House."

CHORUS.

O THIS is no my ain lassie,
Fair tho' the lassie be;
O weel ken I my ain lassie,
Kind love is in her e'e.

I see a form, I see a face,

Ye weel may wi' the fairest place;
It wants, to me, the witching grace,
The kind love that's in her e'e.

O this, &c.

She's bonie, blooming, straight and tall,
And lang has had my heart in thrall;
And ay it charms my very saul,
The kind love that's in her e'e.
O this, &c.

A thief sae pawkie is my Jean,
To steal a blink by a' unseen;
But gleg as light are lovers' een,
When kind love is in the e'e.
O this, &c.

It may escape the courtly sparks,
It may escape the learned clerks ;
But weel the watching lover marks
The kind love that's in her e'e.
O this, &c.