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0! saft in the gloaming his luve he discloses ! And saftly yestreen, as I milked my cow, He swore that my breath it was sweeter than

roses, And a' the gait hame he did naithing but woo.'

"Ah, Jenny! the young laird may brag o his

siller, His houses, his lands, and his lordly degree; His speeches for true luve may drap sweet as

honey, But, trust me, dear Jenny! he ne'er loed like me. The wooing o' gentry are the words o' fashion ; The faster they fa' as the heart is least true!The dumb look o'luve's aft the best proof o':

passion : The heart that feels maist is the least fit to woo!'

'Hae na ye roos'd my cheeks like the morning!
Hae na ye roos’d my cherry-red mou !
Hae na ye come owre sea, moor, and mountain,
What mair, Johnie, need ye to woo?
Far hae ye wander'd, I ken my dear laddie!
Now that ye've found me, there's na cause to rue;
Wi' health we'll hae plenty-I'll never gang gaw-

die,
I ne'er wish'd for mair than a heart that is true.'

She hid her fair face in her true lover's bosom;
The saft tear o'transport fill'd ilk lover's ee;
'The burnie ran sweet by their side as they sabbit,
And sweet sang the mavis aboon on the tree.

He clasp'd her, he press'd her, and ca'd her his

hinny, And aften be tasted her hinny-sweet mou ; And ay 'tween ilk kiss she sigh'd to her Johnie *Oh! laddie !-weel can ye woo!'

TAK TENT AND BE WARY.

• Hech ! lass, but ye’re cantie and vogie ! Wow! but your e’en look pauky and roguie ! What war ye doing, Kate, down in yon bogie,

Up in the morning sae airy and grey ?' I've been wi' some body! what need ye to speer? I've been wi' young Jamie !~I've been wi' my

dear! -God save me! my mither will miss me, I fear! D'ye ken, lass! he's courting me a' the lang

day!'

O Kate, tak tent and be wary!
Jamie's a sad aneshe never will marry ;
Think o'poor Tibby ;-he's left her to carry
Black burning shame till the day that she'll

die !
“I carena for Tibby-a glaiket young quean!
Her gaits wi' the fallows we a' ken long syne !
The heart o’my laddie I never can tyne!

He promis'd to marry me down on yon lea
O no! I need na be wary!-
Yes !. yes he means for to marry!
Wi' mony sweet kisses he ca'd me his deary,

And swore he wad tak me afore Beltan day."

O Kate ! Kate! he'll deceive ye! (The de'il take the chiel ! he does naithing but

grieve me!) He's fu’o' deceit!-gin ye like to believe me, The fause loon last night tald the same tale to

me.'

• Dear Jean! but ye’re unco camstary! Ye'll ne'er let a bodie trou ever they'll marry! Ye've now gi'en me something that's no light to

carry, "Twill lie at my beart till the day that I die ! She gaed awa sighing! she gaed away wae; Her mither flet sair for her byding away! She sat down to spin !-ne'era word could she say,

But drew out a thread wi' the tear in her ee.

O yes !—it's time to be wary ! Jamie's a sad ane!-he ne'er means to marry !He may rise in the morning, and wait till he's

wearie! He's no see my face for a year and a day!' She raise wi' the lavroc, she milked her cow; Sat down by her leglin and 'gan for to rue :Young Jamie cam by-her heart lap to her mou !

And she trou'd ilka word that the fause loon did

say!

-Hech! sirs ! how lasses will vary!
Sometimes they're doubtfu'-'tis then they are

wary ; But when luve comes louping, they ay think we'll

marry, And trust, like poor Kate, to what fause loons

will say.

MALLY AIKEN,

AN OLD SONG REVIVED,

Air.-Gaelic.

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O LISTEN ! listen and I'll tell ye*
How this fair maid's play'd her part :-
First she vowd and promis'd to me,
Now she strives to break my heart!'

Erin O! Mally Aiken,
Erin O s'dhu ma roon.

a

I coft you silken garters, Mally,
And sleeve-knots for your tartan gown;
I coft you a green necklace, Mally,
To busk you whan you gade to town:
You gae me kisses sweet as hinny !
You gae me words mair sweet than true;
You swore you loo'd me best o' ony;
-Ah! why than Mally break your vow!

Erin 0! Mally Aiken,
Erin O s'dhu ma roon.

Yon auld man came wi' wyles sae bonie,
He bragg'd o' land and walth o' gear;
He promis'd braws mair fine than Johnie
To busk ye for the kirk and fair ;

* This verse is all the author ever heard of the original.-The meaning of the Gaelic chorus is, O Mally Aiken, thou art my love.

He gae up tocher to your daddy ;-
Your mither sigh'd and thought o' me ;
But Mally wish'd to be a lady,
And chang'd true luve for-high degree !

Erin 0! Mally Aiken,
Erin O s’dhu ma roon.

He's ta’en you hame; he's made you gawdie,
He's busk'd you to the kirk and fair ;
But you had better ta’en your laddie,
For happiness you'll ne'er see mair!
You may gang to kirk and fair, my Mally ;
Your face and braws catch
But happiness you'll ne'er see, Mally,
For breaking o' your vows to me!

Erin 0! Mally Aiken,
Erin O s'dhu ma roon.

ilka ee,

TO GET A MAN,

Tars warld is a lottery, as ilk ane may ken;
There are prizes for women as weel as for men:
But as far as my faither and mither can see,
Though the’re prizes for some, the’re aye blanks

for me!

Though black, I'm comely ; my een's like a slae ! Odd! I'm sure they're far better that een that are

grey ? Yet the lads they court Katey as fast as they can, While my father aye tells memI'N ne'er get a man.

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