The Gentle Shepherd: A Scots Pastoral Comedy. With All the Songs. By Allan RamsayP. Mair, 1790 - 60 стор. |
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The Gentle Shepherd: A Scots Pastoral Comedy: With All the Songs. by Allan ... Allan Ramsay Попередній перегляд недоступний - 2018 |
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aboon alake auld bairns baith Baul Bauldy Becauſe beft blate blefs blyth bonny breaft caft canna cou'd de'il dear e'en e'er elfe fafe faft fair fauld fear fecret feems feen fenfe fhall fhepherd fhould filk filly fince fing fleep fmile fome foon fowk fpeak frae ftand ftill fure fweet fyne gang gars gi'e Glaud green hafte hame hear heart honeft ilka Jenny kifs laffes laffie lafs laft laird lefs Madge Maufe maun mony morning nae mair nane ne'er night nought o'er Pate Patie Patie's Peggy Peggy's pleaſe pleaſure reft rifing Roger round SANG Sir William ſpeak Symon Syne tald tell thee thefe theſe thou thro troth Whene'er Whilk whimpling wife witch ye'll ye're young
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Сторінка 3 - 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. My Peggy smiles sae kindly, Whene'er I whisper love. That I look down on a' the town, — That I look down upon a crown.
Сторінка 3 - 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 11 - He is but what need I fay that or this, I'd fpend a month to tell you what he is ! In a' he fays or does, there's fie a gate, The reft feem coofs compar'd with my dear Pale.
Сторінка 5 - West-port", and bought a winsome flute, Of plum-tree made, with iv'ry virles round, A dainty whistle with a pleasant sound: I'll be mair canty wi't, and ne'er cry dool, Than you with all your cash, ye dowie fool. 60 Rog. Na, Patie, na! I'm nae sic churlish beast, Some other thing lyes heavier at my breast: 1 dream'da dreary dream this hinder night, That gars my flesh a' creep yet with the fright. Pat. Now to a friend how silly's this pretence, To ane wha you and a...
Сторінка 9 - Kisses with easy whirles the bord'ring grass. We'll end our washing while the morning's cool ; And when the day grows het, we'll to the pool, There wash oursells ; 'tis healthfu' now in May, And sweetly cauler on sae warm a day.
Сторінка 14 - I'll employ wi' pleasure a' my art To keep him cheerfu', and secure his heart. At e'en, when he comes weary frae the hill, I'll ha'e a' things made ready to his will; In winter, when he toils through wind and rain, A bleezing ingle, and a clean hearthstane ; And soon as he flings by his plaid and staff, The seething pat's be ready to tak aff; Clean hag-a-bag I'll spread upon his board, And serve him wi...
Сторінка 12 - I'm sae happy, I shall have delight To hear their little plaints, and keep them right. Wow ! Jenny, can there greater pleasure be, Than see sic wee tots toolying at your knee ; When a' they ettle at — their greatest wish, Is to be. made of, and obtain a kiss ? Can there be toil in tenting day and night The like of them, when love makes care delight ? Jen.
Сторінка 19 - Plotcock comes with Lumps of Lapland Clay, Mixt with the Venom of black Taids and Snakes ; Of this unsonsy Pictures aft she makes Of ony ane she...
Сторінка 8 - I'll promife to obferv't ; But ye maun keep the flute, ye beft deferv't: Now tak it out, and gie's a bonny fpring ; For I'm in tift to hear you play and fing Patie. But firft we'll tak a turn up to the height, And fee gif a...
Сторінка 9 - We're far frae ony road, and out o' sight ; The lads they're feeding far beyont the height. But tell me now, dear Jenny (we're our lane), What gars ye plague your wooer wi' disdain } The neibours a' tent this as weel as I, That Roger Iocs ye, yet ye carena by.