Volume Iii Part 18 (2/2)

Ye wastlin win's upon the main blaw wi' a steady breeze, And waft my Jamie hame again across the roaring seas; Oh! whan he clasps me in his arms in a' his manly pride, I 'll ne'er exchange that ae embrace for a' the warl' beside; Then blaw a steady gale, ye win's, waft him across the sea, And bring my Jamie hame again to his wee bairn an' me.

THE BATTLE OF VITTORIA.[39]

AIR--_”Whistle o'er the lave o 't.”_

Sing a' ye bards, wi' loud acclaim, High glory gie to gallant Graham, Heap laurels on our marshal's fame Wha conquer'd at Vittoria.

Triumphant freedom smiled on Spain, An' raised her stately form again, Whan the British lion shook his mane On the mountains of Vittoria.

Let bl.u.s.tering Suchet crousely crack, Let Joseph rin the coward's track, An' Jourdan wish his baton back He left upon Vittoria.

If e'er they meet their worthy king, Let them dance roun' him in a ring, An' some Scots piper play the spring He blew them at Vittoria.

Gie truth and honour to the Dane, Gie German's monarch heart and brain, But aye in sic a cause as Spain Gie Britain a Vittoria.

The English rose was ne'er sae red, The shamrock waved whare glory led, An' the Scottish thistle rear'd its head In joy upon Vittoria.

Loud was the battle's stormy swell, Whare thousands fought an' many fell, But the Glasgow heroes bore the bell At the battle of Vittoria.

The Paris maids may ban them a', Their lads are maistly wede awa', An' cauld an' pale as wreathes o' snaw They lie upon Vittoria.

Peace to the souls, then, o' the brave, Let all their trophies for them wave, And green be our Cadogan's grave Upon thy fields, Vittoria.

Shout on, my boys, your gla.s.ses drain, And fill a b.u.mper up again, Pledge to the leading star o' Spain, The hero of Vittoria.

[39] At the battle of Vittoria, the 71st, or Glasgow Regiment, bore a distinguished part. On this song, celebrating their achievements, being produced at the Glasgow theatre, it was received with rapturous applause; it was nightly called for during the season.

BLINK OVER THE BURN, SWEET BETTY.

AIR--_”Blink over the burn, sweet Betty.”_

Blink over the burn, sweet Betty, Blink over the burn to me; Blink over the burn, sweet Betty, An' I 'll gang alang wi' thee; Though father and mither forbade it, Forbidden I wadna be; Blink over the burn, sweet Betty, An' I 'll gang alang wi' thee.

The cheek o' my love 's like the rose-bud, Blus.h.i.+ng red wi' the mornin' dew, Her hair 's o' the loveliest auburn, Her ee 's o' the bonniest blue; Her lips are like threads o' the scarlet, Disclosing a pearly row; Her high-swelling, love-heaving bosom Is white as the mountain snow.

But it isna her beauty that hauds me, A glitterin' chain winna lang bind; 'Tis her heavenly seraph-like sweetness, An' the graces adornin' her mind; She 's dear to my soul as the sunbeam Is dear to the summer's morn, An' she says, though her father forbade it, She 'll ne'er break the vows she has sworn.

Her father's a canker'd auld carle, He swears he will ne'er gie consent; Such carles should never get daughters, Unless they can mak them content; But she says, though her father forbade it, Forbidden she winna be; Blink over the burn, sweet Betty, An' I 'll gang alang wi' thee.

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