The warl would think I was mad;
MY LOVE SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET
TUNE-Lady Badinscoth's Reel
My love she's but a lassie yet,
My love she's but a lassie yet;
We'll let her stand a year or twa,
She'll no be half sae saucy yet.
I rue the day I sought her, O,
I rue the day I sought her, O;
Wha gets her needs na say she's woo'd,
But he may say he's bought her, O!
Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet,
Come draw a drap o' the best o't yet:
Gae seek for pleasure where ye will,
But here I never miss'd it yet.
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't,
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;
The minister kiss'd the fiddler's wife,
And couldna preach for thinking o't.
EPPIE ADAIR.
TUNE-My Eppie.
AND oh! my Eppie,
My jewel, my Eppie
Wha wadna he happy
Wi' Eppie Adair?
By love, and by beauty,
By law, and by duty,
I swear to be true to
My Eppie Adair!
And oh my Eppie,
My jewel, my Eppie,
Wha wadna be happy
Wi' Eppie Adair?
A' pleasure exile me,
Dishonour defile me
If e'er I beguile thee
My Eppie Adair!
THERE'S A YOUTH IN THIS CITY.
THERE'S a youth in this city, it were a great pity
That he frae our lasses should wander awa;
For he's bonnie and braw, weel-favoured and a',
And his hair has a natural buckle and a
Ilis coat is the hue of his bonnet sac blue;
His fecket is white as the new-driven snaw
His hose they are blae, and his shoon like the slae,
And his clear siller buckles they dazzle us a'.
waistcoat, snow blue, shoes, sloe silver
For beauty and fortune the laddie's been courtin';
Weel-featured, weel-tocher'd, weel-mounted, and braw;
But chiefly the siller, that gars him gang till her,
The penny's the jewel that beautifies a'.
There's Meg wi' the mailen, that fain wad a-haen him;
And Susie, whose daddy was laird o' the ha';
There's lang-tocher'd Nancy maist fetters his fancy-
But the laddie's dear sel' he loes dearest of a'.
THENIEL MENZIES' BONNIE MARY.
TUNE-The Ruffian's Rant.
IN coming by the brig o' Dye,
At Darlet we a blink did tarry;
As day was dawin in the sky,
We drank a health to bonnie Mary.
Theniel Menzies' bonnie Mary;
Theniel Menzies' bonnie Mary;
Charlie Gregor tint his plaidie,
Kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary.
Her cen sae bright, her brow sae white,
Her haffet locks as brown's a berry;
And
aye they dimpl't wi' a smile,
The rosy cheeks o' bonnie Mary.
We lap and danced the lee-lang day,
Till piper lads were wae and weary,
But Charlie gat the spring to pay,
For kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary.
ON A PLOUGHMAN.
As I was a-wandering ae morning in spring,
I heard a young ploughman sae sweetly to sing;
And as he was singing these words, he did say,
There's nae life like the ploughman's in the month of sweet May.
The lav'rock in the morning she'll rise frae her nest,
And mount the air wi' the dew on her breast,
And wi' the merry ploughman she'll whistle and sing,
And at night she'll return to her nest back again.
EVAN BANKS.
TUNE-Savourna Delish.
SLOW spreads the gloom my soul desires,
The sun from India's shore retires :
To Evan banks with temp'rate ray,
Home of youth, he leads the day.
Oh! banks to me for ever dear!
Oh! stream, whose murmurs still 1 hear!
All, all my hopes of bliss reside
Where Evan mingles with the Clyde.
And she, in simple beauty drest,
Whose image lives within my breast;
Who, trembling, heard my parting sigh,
And long pursued me with her eye:
Does she, with heart unchang'd as mine,
Oft in the vocal bowers recline?
Or, where yon grot o'erhangs the tide,
Muse while the Evan seeks the Clyde ?
Ye lofty banks that Evan bound,
Ye lavish woods that wave around,
And o'er the stream your shadows throw
Which sweetly winds so far below;
What secret charm to mem'ry brings
All that on Evan's border springs!
Sweet banks! ye bloom by Mary's side:
Blest stream! she views thee haste to Clyde.
Can all the wealth of India's coast
Atone for years in absence lost!
Return, ye moments of delight,
With richer treasures bless my sight!
Swift from this desert let me part,
And fly to meet a kindred heart!
Nor more may aught my steps divide
From that dear stream which flows to Clyde
BONNIE PEG.
As I came in by our gate end,
As day was waxin' weary,
O wha came tripping down the street,
But bonnie Peg, my dearie!
Her air sae sweet, and shape complete.
Wi' nae proportion wanting,
The Queen of Love did never move
Wi' motion mair enchanting.
Wi' linked hands, we took the sands
A-down yon winding river;
And, oh! that hour and broomy bower,
Can I forget it ever?
HERE'S HIS HEALTH IN WATER.
TUNE-The Job of Journey-Work.
ALTHO' my back be at the wa',
And tho' he be the fautor;
Altho' my back be at the wa',
Yet, here's his health in water!
O! wae gae by his wanton sides,
Sae brawlie he could flatter;
Till for his sake I'm slighted sair.
And dree the kintra clatter.
But tho' my back be at the wa',
And tho' he be the fautor;
But tho' my back be at the wa',
Yet, here's his health in water.
AH, CHLORIS.
TUNE-Major Graham
Aн, Chloris, since it may na be,
That thou of love wilt hear;
If from the lover thou maun flee,
Yet let the friend be dear.
Altho' I love my Chloris mair
Than ever tongue could tell;
My passion I will ne'er declare,
I'll say I'll wish thee well:
Tho' a' my daily care thou art,
And a' my nightly dream,
I'll hide the struggle in my heart
And say it is esteem.
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