Volume Ii Part 31 (1/2)

CAPTAIN O'KAIN.

Flow saftly, thou stream, through the wild spangled valley; Oh green be thy banks, ever bonny an' fair!

Sing sweetly, ye birds, as ye wanton fu' gaily, Yet strangers to sorrow, untroubled by care.

The weary day lang I list to your sang, An' waste ilka moment, sad, cheerless, alane; Each sweet little treasure O' heart-cheering pleasure, Far fled frae my bosom wi' Captain O'Kain.

Fu' aft on thy banks hae we pu'd the wild gowan, An' twisted a garland beneath the hawthorn; Ah! then each fond moment wi' pleasure was glowing, Sweet days o' delight, which can never return!

Now ever, wae's me!

The tear fills my e'e, An sair is my heart wi' the rigour o' pain; Nae prospect returning, To gladden life's morning, For green waves the willow o'er Captain O'Kain.

MY ONLY JO AND DEARIE, O'.

Thy cheek is o' the rose's hue, My only jo an' dearie, O; Thy neck is like the siller dew Upon the banks sae briery, O; Thy teeth are o' the ivory, O, sweet 's the twinkle o' thine e'e!

Nae joy, nae pleasure, blinks on me, My only jo an' dearie, O.

The birdie sings upon the thorn, Its sang o' joy, fu' cheerie, O, Rejoicing in the simmer morn, Nae care to make it eerie, O; But little kens the sangster sweet, Ought o' the care I hae to meet, That gars my restless bosom beat, My only jo an' dearie, O.

Whan we were bairnies on yon brae, An' youth was blinking bonny, O, Aft we wad daff the lee lang day, Our joys fu' sweet an' mony, O; Aft I wad chase thee o'er the lea, An' round about the th.o.r.n.y tree; Or pu' the wild flowers a' for thee, My only jo an' dearie, O.

I hae a wish I canna tine, 'Mang a' the cares that grieve me, O; I wish that thou wert ever mine, An' never mair to leave me, O; Then I wad dawt thee night an' day, Nae ither warldly care wad hae, Till life's warm stream forgat to play, My only jo an' dearie, O.

THE BONNIE BLINK O' MARY'S E'E.[110]

Now bank an' brae are clad in green, An' scatter'd cowslips sweetly spring; By Girvan's fairy-haunted stream, The birdies flit on wanton wing; By Ca.s.sillis' banks, when e'ening fa's, There let my Mary meet wi' me, There catch her ilka glance o' love, The bonnie blink o' Mary's e'e.

The chiel' wha boasts o' warld's wealth Is aften laird o' meikle care; But Mary she is a' my ain, An' Fortune canna gie me mair.

Then let me stray by Ca.s.sillis' banks, Wi' her, the la.s.sie dear to me, An' catch her ilka glance o' love, The bonnie blink o' Mary's e'e.

[110] Cromeck in his ”Reliques,” erroneously attributes this song to Burns.

THE BRAES O' DRUMLEE.

Ere eild wi' his blatters had warsled me down, Or reft me o' life's youthfu' bloom, How aft hae I gane, wi' a heart louping light, To the knowes yellow tappit wi' broom!

How aft hae I sat i' the beild o' the knowe, While the laverock mounted sae hie, An' the mavis sang sweet in the plantings around, On the bonnie green braes o' Drumlee.

But, ah! while we daff in the suns.h.i.+ne of youth, We see na' the blasts that destroy; We count na' upon the fell waes that may come, An eithly o'ercloud a' our joy.

I saw na the fause face that fortune can wear, Till forced from my country to flee; Wi' a heart like to burst, while I sobbed, ”Farewell, To the bonnie green braes o' Drumlee!

”Fareweel, ye dear haunts o' the days o' my youth, Ye woods and ye valleys sae fair; Ye 'll bloom whan I wander abroad like a ghaist, Sair nidder'd wi' sorrow an' care.

Ye woods an' ye valleys, I part wi' a sigh, While the flood gushes down frae my e'e; For never again shall the tear weet my cheek, On the bonnie green braes o' Drumlee.

”O Time, could I tether your hours for a wee!