JEANIE'S BLACK EE;

OR

THA' MI 'N AM CHODAL, 'SNA DUISGIBH MI.

Air-Cauld Frosty Morning.

THE sun raise sa rosy, the grey hills adorning! Light sprang the lavroc and mounted sae hie; When true to the tryst o' blythe May's dewy morn

ing

My Jeanie came linking out owre the green lea.

To mark her impatience, I crap 'mang the brakens, Aft, aft to the kent gate she turn'd her black ee; Then lying down dowlie, sigh'd by the willow tree, 'Ha me mohatel na douska me.'*

Saft through the green birks I sta' to my jewel, Streik'd on spring's carpet aneath the saugh tree! 'Think na, dear lassie, thy Willie's been cruel,' 'Ha me mohatel na douska me.'

'Wi' luve's warm sensations I've mark'd your impatience,

Lang hid 'mang the brakens I watch'd your black

ee

*I am asleep, do not waken me.-The Gaelic chorus is pro nounced according to the present orthography.

You're no sleeping, pawkie Jean! open thae lovely

een!'

'Ha me mohatel na douska me.'

'Bright is the whin's bloom ilk green dow adorning!

Sweet is the primrose bespangled wi' dew!

Yonder comes Peggy to welcome May morning! Dark waves her haffet locks owre her white brow!

O! light! light she's dancing keen on the smooth gowany green,

Barefit and kilted half up to the knee!

While Jeanie is sleeping still, I'll rin and sport my fill,'

'I was asleep, and ye've wakened me !'

'I'll rin and whirl her round; Jeanie is sleeping sound;

Kiss her and clasp her fast; nae ane can see! Sweet! sweet's her hinny mou'- Will, I'm no sleeping now,

I was asleep, but ye waken'd me.'

Laughing till like to drap, swith to my Jean I lap,
Kiss'd her ripe roses and blest her black ee!
And ay since whane'er we meet, sing, for the sound
is sweet,

'Ha me mohatel na douska me.'

THE PLAID AMANG THE HETHER

Air.-Old Highland Laddie.

THE wind blew hie owre muir and lea,
And dark and stormy grew the weather;
The rain rain'd sair; nae shelter near
But my luve's plaid amang the hether:
O my bonnie highland lad!

My winsome, weelfar'd highland laddie;
Wha wad mind the wind and weit
Sae weel row'd in his tartan pladdie ?

Close to his breast he held me fast ;-
Sae cozy, warm, we lay thegither!
Nae simmer heat was half sae sweet
As my luve's plaid amang the hether!
O my bonnie, &c.

Mid wind and rain he tald his tale;
My lightsome heart grew like a feather;
It lap sae quick I coudna speak,
But silent sigh'd amang the hether!
O my bonny, &c.

The storm blew past; we kiss'd in haste;
I hameward ran and tald my mither;
She gloom'd at first, but soon confess'd
The bowls row'd right amang the hether!
O my bonny, &c.

Now Hymen's beam gilds bank and stream
Whar Will and I fresh flowers will gather;
Nae storms I fear, I've got my dear
Kind hearted lad amang the hether!
O my bonnie highland lad

My winsome, weelfar'd highland laddie!
Should storms appear, my Will's ay near
To row me in his tartan pladdie.

COME UNDER MY PLAIDY;

OR,

MODERN MARRIAGE DELINEATED.

Air.-Johnie Maggill.

COME under my plaidy, the night's gau' to fa'; Come in frae the cauld blast, the drift, and the

snaw ;

Come under my plaidy, and sit down beside me;
There's room in't, dear lassie! believe me, for twa.
Come under my plaidy, and sit down beside me,
I'll hap ye frae every cauld blast that can blaw:
O! come under my plaidy, and sit down beside me,
There's room in't, dear lassie! believe me, for twa.

'Gae 'wa wi' your plaidy! auld Donald, ga 'wa,
I fear na the cauld blast, the drift, nor the snaw;
Gae 'wa wi' your plaidy! I'll no sit beside ye;
Ye may be my gutcher :-auld Donald gae 'wa'.

1

I'm gau'n to meet Johnie, he's young and he's bon.

nie;

He's been at Meg's bridal, sae trig and sae braw!
O nane dances sae lightly! sae gracefu' ! sae tightly!
His cheek's like the new rose, his brow like the
snaw!

'Dear Marion, let that flee stick fast to the wa',
Your Jock's but a gowk, and has naithing ava;
The hale o' his pack he has now on his back,
He's thretty, and I'm but three'core and twa.
Be frank now and kindly; I'll busk you aye finely;
To kirk or to market they'll few gang sae braw;
A bein house to bide in, a chaise for to ride in,
And flunkies to tend ye as aft as ye ca.'

'My father's ay tauld me, my mither and a', Ye'd mak' a gude husband, and keep me ay braw; It's true I loo Johnie, he's gude and he's bonie,

But waes me! ye ken he has naething ava!

I hae little tocher; you've made a gude offer;
I'm now mair than twenty; my time is but sma'!
Sae gi' me your plaidy, I'll creep in beside ye,
I thought ye'd been aulder than threescore and
twa.'

She crapt in ayont him, aside the stane wa',
Whar Johnie was list'ning, and heard her tell a';
The day was appointed! his proud heart it dunted,
And strack 'gainst his side as if bursting in twa.
He wander'd hame weary, the night it was dreary!
And thowless, he tint his gate deep 'mang the snaw;
The howlet was screamin', while Johnie cried 'wo-

men

Wad marry auld nick if he'd keep them aye bra.