311

SDOW

The birds sit chittering in the thorn,

shivering

A' day they fare but sparely;

And lang's the night frae e'en to morn-
I'm sure it's winter fairly.

long, from

THERE WAS A LASS.

TUNE-Duncan Davison.

THERE was a lass, they ca'd her Meg,
And she held o'er the moors to spin;
There was a lad that followed her,
They ca'd him Duncan Davison.

called

went

The moor was dreigh, and Meg was skeigh,
Her favour Duncan could na win;

For wi' the rock she wad him knock,
And aye she shook the temper-pin.*

As o'er the moor they lightly foor,

A burn was clear, a glen was green, Upon the banks they eased their shanks, And aye she set the wheel between: But Duncan swore a haly aith,

That Meg should be a bride the morn,
Then Meg took up her spinnin' graith,
And flang them a' out o'er the burn.
We'll big a house--a wee, wee house,
And we will live like king and queen,
Sae blithe and merry we will be

When ye set by the wheel at e'en.
A man may drink and no be drunk;
A man may fight and no be slain;
A man may kiss a bonnie lass,
And aye be welcome back again.

THE PLOUGHMAN.

THE ploughman he's a bonnie lad,
His mind is ever true, Jo,

His garters knit below his knee,

His bonnet it is blue, Jo.

Then up wi't a', my ploughman lad,

And hey my merry ploughman;

Of a' the trades that I do ken,
Commend me to the ploughman.

tedious, proud

distaff, would

* A long screw used to tighten the band on the wheel.

went

legs

holy oath

furniture

flung build

know

FIRST WHEN MAGGY WAS MY CARE.

TUNE-Whistle o'er the Lave o't.

FIRST when Maggy was my care,
Heaven I thought was in her air;
Now we're married-speir na mair-
Whistle o'er the lave o't.

Meg was meek, and Meg was mild,
Bonnie Meg was Nature's child;
Wiser men than me's beguiled-
Whistle o'er the lave o't.

How we live, my Meg and me,
How we love, and how we 'gree,
I care na by how few may see-
Whistle o'er the lave o't.

Wha I wish were maggots' meat,
Dished up in her winding-sheet,

I could write-but Meg maun see't-
Whistle o'er the lave o't.

318

ask no more

rest

agree care not

who

must

He roosed my een, sae bonnie blue,

He roosed my waist, sae genty sma';
And aye my heart came to my mou',
When ne'er a body heard or saw.
My Jockey toils upon the plain,

Through wind and weet, through frost and snaw:

And o'er the lea I leuk fu' fain,

When Jockey's owsen hameward ca'.

And aye the night comes round again,
When in his arms he takes me a';

And

aye he vows he'll be my ain,
As lang's he has a breath to draw.

praised, eyes so neatly mouth

THE TITHER MORN.

To a Highland Air.

THE tither morn, when I forlorn
Aneath an aik sat moaning,

I did na trow, I'd see my jo,
Beside me, gin the gloaming.
But he sae trig, lap o'er the rig,
And dawtingly did cheer me,
When I, what reck, did least expec',
To see my lad so near me.

His bonnet he, a thought ajee,

other beneath, oak

not, believe, lover by the evening

so neat, leapt, ridge endearingly heed

Cocked sprush when first he clasped me;

And I, I wat, wi' fainness grat,

THAT WEARY War! I late and air,

While in his grips he pressed me.

Hae BANN'D since Jock departed;
But now as glad I'm wi' my lad,
As short syne broken-hearted.
Fu' aft at e'en wi' dancing keen,

When a' were blithe and merry,

I cared na by, sae sad was I,
In absence o' my dearie.

But, Now I'm blest, my mind's at rest,

I'm happy wi' my Johnny:

At kirk and fair, I'se aye be there,

And be as canty's ony.

AS I WAS A WANDERING.

TUNE-Rinn Meudial mo Mhealladh

awry

spruce

wot, wept

gripe

early

have

time ago

oft

not although

As I was wandering ae midsummer e'enin',
The pipers and youngsters were making their game;
Amang them I spied my faithless fause lover,
Which bled a' the wounds o' my dolour again.

I'll always

happy

one

false grief