Volume V Part 35 (2/2)

WHAT AILS MY HEART?

What ails my heart--what dims my e'e?

What maks you seem sae wae, Jamie?

Ye werena aye sae cauld to me; Ye ance were blythe and gay, Jamie.

I 'm wae to see you, like a flower Kill'd by the winter's snaw, Jamie, Droop farer down frae hour to hour, An' waste sae fast awa, Jamie.

I 'm sure your Jeanie's kind and true, She loves nae ane but thee, Jamie; She ne'er has gien thee cause to rue; If sae--ye still are free, Jamie.

I winna tak your hand and heart, If there is ane mair dear, Jamie; I 'd sooner far for ever part With thee--though wi' a tear, Jamie.

Then tell me your doubts and your fears, Keep naething hid frae me, Jamie; Are ye afraid o' coming years, O' darker days to me, Jamie?

I 'll share your grief, I 'll share your joy, They 'll come alike to me, Jamie; Misfortune's hand may all destroy, Except my love for thee, Jamie.

AWAY TO THE HIGHLANDS.

Away to the Highlands, where Lomond is flowing, Where mists and where mountains in solitude lie, And where the braw red-lipp'd heather is growing, And cataracts foam, as they came from the sky!

Though scenes of the fairest are Windsor adorning, Though England's proud structures enrapture the view; Yet Nature's wild grandeur, all artifice scorning, Is seen 'mong our mountains so bonnie and blue.

Then away to the hills where Loch Lomond is flowing, Where mists and where mountains in solitude lie, And where the braw red-lipp'd heather is growing, And cataracts foam, as they came from the sky!

Benlomond is seen in his monarch-like glory, His foot in the sea and his head in the sky; His broad lofty brow is majestic and h.o.a.ry, And round him, and round him the elements fly.

The winds are his music, the clouds are his clothing, The sun is his s.h.i.+eld, as he wheels blazing by; When once on his summit you 'd think you were soaring 'Mong bright beaming stars, they are rolling so nigh!

Then away to the hills where Loch Lomond is flowing, Where mists and where mountains in solitude lie, And where the braw red-lipp'd heather is growing, And cataracts foam, as they came from the sky!

I 'M AWAY.

I 'm away, I 'm away, like a thing that is wild, With heart full of glee, as the heart of a child!

Afar o'er the mountains, afar o'er the stream, To revel in joy 'mid the glad summer beam.

I leave care behind me, I throw to the wind All sorrows allied to the earth-plodding mind; The music of birds and the murmur of rills, Shall be my companions o'er Scotia's loved hills.

How lucent each lake, and how lovely each dell!

Who would not be happy, at home let him dwell; I 'm away, I 'm away, like a thing that is wild, With heart full of glee, as the heart of a child!

Oh, land of my fathers! Oh, home of my birth!

No spot seems so blest on the round rolling earth!

Thy wild woods so green, and thy mountains so high, Seem homes of enchantment half hid in the sky!

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