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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.

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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.




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’.

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


* Dear Marion, let that fee 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


She crapt in ayont him, aside the stane wa',
Whar Johnie was list’ning, and heard ber 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-


Wad marry auld nick if he'd keep them aye bra.' O the deil's in the lasses ! they gang now sae bra' They'll lie down wi' auld men o' fourscore nd

twa; The hale oʻtheir marriage is gowd and a carriage ; Plain luve is the cauldest blast now that can blaw!


Air.-An old Gaelic tune.

J. HARK!-hark! the sound of batttle !

Warning thrice, the cannon's rattle!
Fast o'er plain and mountain brattle

Scotia's thousands brave!
A. Never !-never mair to tell

When freedom fought !-where valour fell!
Nor return ! till death's sad knell

Toll warriors to the grave !
J. Awa wi' fear!-stop that tear!

Freedom's cause to freemen's dear!
Valour, Annie !-valour! valour!

True valour shields the brave !


- A. Whar shields the helpless ? Johnnie,

Wha guards a wife like Annie ?
Trembling here, wi’ infants bonnie !

Sever'd frae the brave !

• Written during the prospect of an immediate invasion. The song represents the parting between a busband and wife, on the first signal of the enemy's approach,

Wha smiles to banish fear?

Wha remains to stop the tear?
J. Faithful love, and heaven's kind care,

My Annie's peace will save !
Then banish dread !-tear ne'er shed !
Gallia's chains for slaves are made!
Britons, Annie !-Britons ! Britons !

Free Britons scorn the slave!


A. Gang-gang! then, dearest Johnnie !

Slavery's ill's the warst o' ony!-
Heaven and virtue guard your Annie !

God direct the brave !
This warm kiss before you start !
Place this token near your heart !-
Friendship now and peace maun part,

Dear freedom's cause to save! J. Then banish dread !-tear ne'er shed !

If freedom fa’s, love's joys drap dead!
Freedom, Annie! Freedom! Freedom!

Blest freedom! or--the Grave!

Wi' trembling hand, and heart sair knockin,
Round his neck she tied love's token;
Sighed, and cried in words half spoken,

Heaven shields the brave!
The trumpet blew ! the warrior flew;
Met Scotia's freemen, dauntless, true!
Firm their step! ranks Red and Blue,

Cried, Victory, or the Grave!

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