Volume Iii Part 24 (1/2)
Love brought me a bough o' the willow sae green That waves by yon brook where the wild-flowers grow sheen; And braiding my harp wi' the sweet budding rue, It mellow'd its tones 'mang the saft falling dew; It whisper'd a strain that I wist na to hear, That false was the la.s.sie my bosom held dear; Pride stirr'd me to sing, as I tore off the rue-- If she 's got ae sweetheart, sure I can get two!
Yet aft when reflection brings back to my mind The days that are gane, when my la.s.sie was kind, A sigh says I felt then as ne'er I feel now, My soul was enraptured--I canna tell how.
Yet what need I sing o' the joys that hae been, And why should I start at the glance o' her een, Or think o' the dark locks that wave o'er her brow?-- If she 's got ae sweetheart, sure I can get two!
Yestreen when the sun glinted blithe on the hill, I met her alane by the flower-border'd rill, I speer'd for her weelfare, but cauld was her air, And I soughtna' to change it by foul words or fair; She says I deceived her, how can it be sae?
The heart, ere deceived some affection maun hae, And that hers had nane, I the sairer may rue, Though she 's got ae sweetheart, an' I can get two.
She left me for ane wha o' mailins could sing, Sae gie her the pleasures that riches can bring.
Gae fame to the hero, and gowd to the Jew, And me the enjoyment that 's prized by the few; A friend o' warm feeling, and frank and refined, And a la.s.sie that 's modest, true hearted, and kind, I 'll woo her, I 'll lo'e her, and best it will do, For love brings nae bliss when it tampers wi' two.
HOW 'S A' WI' YE.
AIR--_”Jenny's Bawbee.”_
Ere foreign fas.h.i.+ons cross'd the Tweed, A bannet happ'd my daddie's head, Our daintiest fare was milk-and-bread, Folk scunner'd a' at tea; When cronies met they didna stand, To rule their words by manners grand, But warmly clasping hand in hand, Said, How 's a' wi' ye.
But now there 's nought but shy finesse, And mim and prim 'bout mess and dress, That scarce a hand a hand will press Wi' ought o' feeling free; A cauldrife pride aside has laid The hodden gray, and hame-spun plaid, And a' is changed since neebors said Just, How 's a' wi' ye.
Our auld guidwife wore cloak and hood, The maiden's gown was worset guid, And kept her ringlets in a snood Aboon her pawkie e'e; Now set wi' gaudy gumflowers roun', She flaunts it in her silken gown, That scarce ane dare by glen or town Say, How 's a' wi' ye.
I watna how they manage now Their brides in lighted ha's to woo, But it is caulder wark, I trow, Than e'er it was wi' me; Aye true unto the trysts we set, When we among the hawthorns met, Love-warm, true love wad scarce us let Say, How 's a' wi' ye.
Wae-worth their haughty state and style, That drive true feeling frae our isle!
In saxty years o' care and toil, What ferlies do we see!
The lowliest heart a pride displays, Unkent in our ain early days, Ilk kind and canty thing decays, Wi', How 's a' wi' ye.
When back we look on bygane years, Weel may the cheek be wet wi' tears, The cauld mool mony a bosom bears, Ance dear to you and me; Yet I will neither chafe nor chide, While ane comes to my ingle side, Whose bosom glows wi' honest pride At, How 's a' wi' ye.
Newfangled guffs may things arrange For further and still further change, But strange things shall to me be strange, While I can hear and see.
And when I gang, as I 'll do soon, To join the leal in hames aboon, I 'll greet them just as aye I 've doon, Wi', How 's a' wi' ye.
OH! SAIR I FEEL THE WITCHING POWER.
TUNE--_”Miller of Dron,” improved set._
Oh, sair I feel the witching power O' that sweet pawkie e'e, And sair I 'll rue the luckless hour That e'er it shone on me; Unless sic love as wounds this heart Come frae that heart again, And teach for aye the kindly ray To blink on me alane.
Thy modest cheek aye mantling glows Whene'er I talk o' love, As rainbow rays upon the rose Its native sweets improve; Yet when the sunbeams leave yon tower, And gloamin' vails the glen, Will ye gang to the birken bower When nane on earth can ken?
Oh, scenes delighting, smiles inviting, Heartfelt pleasures len', And oh! how fain to meet alane, When nane on earth can ken!
Amang the lave I manna speak, And when I look the while, The mair I 'm seen, the mair I seek Their watching to beguile; But leave, dear la.s.sie, leave them a', And frae this heart sae leal Thou 'lt hear the love, by glen and shaw, It canna mair conceal.
My plaid shall s.h.i.+eld thy peerless charms Frae evening's fanning gale, And saft shall be my circling arms, And true my simple tale; And seated by the murmuring brook, Within the flowery den, If love 's reveal'd in word or look, There 's nane on earth can ken.