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Though this was fair, and that was braw, And yon the toast of a' the town,
I sigh'd, and said amang them a', "Ye are na Mary Morison."
O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace,
The thought o' Mary Morison.
HERE awa, there awa, wandering Willie,
Tell me thou bringst me my Willie the same. Winter winds blew loud and cauld at our parting; Fears for my Willie brought tears in my e'e: Welcome now simmer, and welcome my Willie, The simmer to nature, my Willie to me. Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave of your slumbers, How your dread howling a lover alarms! Wauken, ye breezes, row gently, ye billows,
And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms. But O! if he's faithless, and minds na his Nannie, Flow still between us, thou wide-roaring main; May I never see it, may I never trow it,
But, dying, believe that my Willie's my ain!
TRUE hearted was he, the sad swain o' the Yarrow,
To equal young Jessie you seek it in vain ;
O fresh is the rose in the gay, dewy morning,
Enthroned in her e'en he delivers his law; And still to her charms she alone is a stranger! Her modest demeanour's the jewel of a'.
WHEN WILD WAR'S DEADLY BLAST WAS
WHEN wild war's deadly blast was blawn,
Wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless,
I left the lines and tented field,
Now's the day and now's the hour;
Wha will be a traitor knave?
Traitor! coward! turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's king and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand, or freeman fa', Caledonian! on wi' me!
By oppression's woes and pains!
But they shall be-shall be free!
Lay the proud usurpers low! Tyrants fall in every foe! Liberty's in every blow!
Forward! let us do, or die!
FOR A' THAT, AND A' THAT.
Is there, for honest poverty,
That hangs his head, and a' that; The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a' that! For a' that, and a' that,
Our toil's obscure and a' that, The rank is but the guinea stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.
What though on hamely fare we dine,
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
For a' that, and a' that,
Their tinsel show, and a' that; The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that.
Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, and stares, and a' that; Though hundreds worship at his word, He's but a coof for a' that; For a' that, and a' that,
His riband, star, and a' that, The man of independent mind, He looks and laughs at a' that. A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, and a' that; But an honest man's aboon his might, Guid faith he mauna fa' that! For a' that, and a' that,
Their dignities, and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride 'worth, Are higher ranks than a' that.
Then let us pray that come it may,
It's coming yet, for a' that,
LAST May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen,
I said there was nothing I hated like men;
The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me, believe me, The deuce gae wi'm, to believe me.
He spak o' the darts in my bonnie black e'en, And vow'd for my love he was dying;
I said he might die when he liked, for Jean; The Lord forgie me for lying, for lying, The Lord forgie me for lying!
A weel-stocked mailen, himsel for the laird, And marriage aff-hand, were his proffers:
I never loot on that I kenn'd it, or cared,
But thought I might hae waur offers, waur offers, But thought I might hae waur offers.
But what wad ye think? in a fortnight or less,
Guess ye how, the jad! I could bear her.
I glowr'd as I'd seen a warlock, a warlock,
But owre my left shouther I gae him a blink, Lest neebors might say I was saucy;
My wooer he caper'd as he'd been in drink, And vow'd I was his dear lassie, dear lassie, And vow'd I was his dear lassie.
I spier'd for my cousin fu' couthy and sweet,
And how her new shoon fit her auld shachl't feet,
He begg'd, for Gudesake! I wad be his wife, Or else I wad kill him wi' sorrow:
So e'en to preserve the poor body in life,
I think I maun wed him to-morrow, to-morrow, I think I maun wed him to-morrow.
TUNE-"Here's a health to them that's awa, hiney."
Here's a health to ane I lo'e dear,
Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet
ALTHOUGH thou maun never be mine,
Although even hope is denied; 'Tis sweeter for thee despairing, Than aught in the world beside-Jessy! Here's a health, &c.
I mourn through the gay, gaudy day,
As, hopeless, I muse on thy charms; But welcome the dream o' sweet slumber, For then I am lockt in thy arms- Jessy' Here's a health, &c.