Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

As the storms the forest tear,
And thunders rend the howling air,
Listening to the doubling roar,
Surging on the rocky shore,-
All I can-I weep and pray,
For his weal that's far away.

Peace, thy olive wand extend,
And bid wild War his ravage end,
Man with brother man to meet,
And as a brother kindly greet:
Then may Heaven with prosp'rous gales
Fill my Sailor's welcome sails,

To my arms their charge convey,
My dear lad that's far away.

On the seas and far away

On stormy seas and far away;
Nightly dreams and thoughts by day
Are with him that's far away.
aye

HARK! THE MAVIS.

TUNE-" CA' THE YOWES TO THE KNOWES."
CHORUS.

CA' the yowes to the knowes,
Ca' them where the heather grows,
Ca' them where the burnie rows,1
My bonnie dearie.

Hark! the mavis' evening sang
Sounding Clouden's woods amang !
Then a faulding let us gang,

My bonnie dearie.

Ca' the, &c.

We'll gae down by Clouden side,
Thro' the hazels spreading wide,
O'er the waves that sweetly glide
To the moon sae clearly.
Ca' the, &c.

Yonder Clouden's silent towers,
Where at moonshine midnight hours,
O'er the dewy-bending flowers,
Fairies dance sae cheery.

Ca' the, &c.

1 Rolls.

Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear;
Thou'rt to love and Heaven sae dear,
Nocht of ill may come thee near,
My bonnie dearie.
Ca' the, &c.

Fair and lovely as thou art,
Thou hast stown' my very heart;
I can die-but canna part,
My bonnie dearie.

Ca' the yowes to the knowes,
Ca' them where the heather grows,
Ca' them where the burnie rows,
My bonnie dearie.

SHE SAYS SHE LO'ES ME BEST OF A'.2

TUNE "ONAGH'S WATER-FALL."

SAE flaxen were her ringlets,

Her eyebrows of a darker hue,
Bewitchingly o'erarching

Twa laughing een o' bonnie blue.
Her smiling, sae wyling,

Wad make a wretch forget his woe;
What pleasure, what treasure,

Unto these rosy lips to grow!
Such was my Chloris' bonnie face,
When first her bonnie face I saw,
And aye my Chloris' dearest charm,
She says she lo'es me best of a'.

Like harmony her motion;
Her pretty ancle is a spy
Betraying fair proportion,

Wad make a saint forget the sky;

Sae warming, sae charming,

Her faultless form and gracefu' air ;

Ilk feature-auld Nature

Declar'd that she could do nae mair:

1 Stolen.

3 The lady in whose honour Burns composed this song was Miss Lorimer,

of Craigieburn.

Hers are the willing chains o' love,
By conquering Beauty's sovereign law;
And aye my Chloris' dearest charm,
She says she lo'es me best of a'.

Let others love the city,

And gaudy show at sunny noon; Gie me the lonely valley,

The dewy eve, and rising moon Fair beaming, and streaming,

Her silver light the boughs amang; While falling, recalling,

The amorous thrush concludes his sang; There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove By wimpling burn and leafy shaw, And hear my vows o' truth and love, And say thou lo'es me best of a'?

HOW LANG AND DREARY.
TUNE-" CAULD KAIL IN ABERDEEN."

How lang and dreary is the night,
When I am frae my dearie;
I restless lie frae e'en to morn,
Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.

CHORUS.

For oh! her lanely nights are lang;
And oh her dreams are eerie ;
And oh! her widow'd heart is sair,
That's absent frae her dearie.

When I think on the lightsome days
I spent wi' thee, my dearie?
And now that seas between us roar,-
How can I be but eerie ?

For oh, &c.

How slow ye move, ye heavy hours;
The joyless day how drearie!

It wasna sae ye glinted by,
When I was wi' my dearie.
For oh, &c.

THE LOVER'S MORNING SALUTE TO HIS MISTRESS."

TUNE-"DEIL TAK THE WARS."

SLEEP'ST thou, or wak'st thou, fairest creature?
Rosy morn now lifts his eye,
Numbering ilka bud which Nature

Waters wi' the tears o' joy:
Now thro' the leafy woods,

And by the reeking floods,

Wild Nature's tenants freely, gladly stray;
The lintwhite in his bower

Chants o'er the breathing flower;

The lav'rock to the sky

Ascends wi' sangs Ο joy,

While the sun and thou arise to bless the day.

Phoebus, gilding the brow o' morning,
Banishes ilk darksome shade,
Nature gladdening and adorning;
Such to me my lovely maid.
When absent frae my fair,
The murky shades o' care

With starless gloom o'ercast my sullen sky:
But when, in beauty's light,
She meets my ravish'd sight,
When thro' my very heart
Her beaming glories dart;

'Tis then I wake to life, to light, and joy.

LASSIE WI' THE LINT-WHITE LOCKS.

TUNE-" ROTHIEMURCHIE'S RANT."

CHORUS.

LASSIE Wi' the lint-white locks,
Bonnie 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 wi', &c.

1 Miss Lorimer is reported to have inspired these verses.

And when the welcome simmer-shower
Has cheer'd ilk drooping little flower,
We'll to the breathing woodbine bower
At sultry noon, my dearie, O.
Lassie wi', &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 wi, &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 wi' the lint-white locks,
Bonnie lassie, artless lassie,
Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks?
Wilt thou be my dearie, OP1

THE AULD MAN.1

TUNE-" GIL MORICE.'

BUT lately seen in gladsome green,
The woods rejoic'd the day,
Thro' gentle showers the laughing flowers
In double pride were gay:

But now our joys are fled,

On winter blasts awa!
Yet maiden May, in rich array,
Again shall bring them a'.

But

my white pow, nae kindly thowe3
Shall melt the snaws of age;

My trunk of eild, but buss or bield,3
Sinks in time's wintry rage.

Oh, age has weary days,

And nights o' sleepless pain!

Thou golden time o' youthfu' prime,

Why com'st thou not again?

1 This piece has at least the merit of being a regular pastoral: the vernal moon, the summer noon, the autumnal evening, and the winter night, are regularly rounded.-R. B.

2 Thaw.

3 Without shelter.

T

« ZurückWeiter »