The Tea-table Miscellany: A Collection of Choice Songs, Scots and English. Reprinted from the 14th Ed, Том 1

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Сторінка 179 - Glasgow town, We were a comely sight to see; My love was clad in the black velvet, And I mysel
Сторінка 47 - My passion with your beauty grew, While Cupid at my heart Still as his mother favour'd you Threw a new flaming dart : Each gloried in their wanton part; To make a lover, he...
Сторінка 237 - My love as he had not been a lover. "The boy put on his robes, his robes of green, His purple vest— 'twas my...
Сторінка 209 - Just entered in her teens, Fair as the day, and sweet as May, Fair as the day, and always gay. My Peggy is a young thing, And I'm not very auld, Yet well I like to meet her at The wauking of the fauld. My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, Whene'er we meet alane, I wish nae mair to lay my care, — I wish nae mair of a' that's rare. My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, To a' the lave I'm cauld; But she gars a' my spirits glow, At wauking of the fauld.
Сторінка 107 - I'll smiling mock at thy neglect, And never love thee more. But if no faithless action stain Thy love and constant word, I'll make thee famous by my pen, And glorious by my sword; I'll serve thee in such noble ways As ne'er was known before ; I'll deck and crown thy head with bays, And love thee more and more.
Сторінка 145 - Margaret's name, And thrice he wept full sore ; Then laid his cheek to her cold grave, And word...
Сторінка 144 - Bethink thee, William, of thy fault, Thy pledge, and broken oath: And give me back my maiden vow, And give me back my troth.
Сторінка 238 - But who the expected husband, husband is ? His hands, methinks, are bathed in slaughter. Ah me! what ghastly spectre's yon, Comes in his pale shroud bleeding after? " Pale as he is, here lay him, lay him down...
Сторінка 70 - AN THOU WERE MY AIN THING. AN thou were my ain thing, I would love thee, I would love thee ; An thou were my ain thing How dearly would I love thee. Like bees that suck the morning dew Frae flowers of sweetest scent and hue, Sae wad I dwell upo' thy mou, And gar the gods envy me.
Сторінка 63 - Soon as the clear goodman of day Does bend his morning draught of dew, "We'll gae to some burnside and play, And gather flow'rs to busk ye'r brow. We'll pou the daisies on the green, The lucken gowans frae the bog ; Between hands now and then we'll lean, And sport upo

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