THE LOVELY LASS OF INVERNESS. THE lovely lass o' Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e'en and morn she cries, alas! And ay the saut tear blins her e'e: Drumofsie moor, Drumofsie day, A waefu' day it was to me; For there I lost my father dear, My father dear and brethren three. Their winding sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are growing green to see; And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman's e'e! Now wae to thee thou cruel lord, That ne'er did wrong to thine or thee. Z 2 A Mother's Lament for the Death of her Son Tune-" FINLAYSTON HOUSE." FATE gave the word, the arrow sped, And pierc'd my darling's heart: And with him all the joys are fled Life can to me impart. By cruel hands the sapling drops, The mother linnet in the brake Death, oft I've fear'd thy fatal blow, O, do thou kindly lay me low O MAY, THY MORN. O MAY, thy morn was ne'er sae sweet, And here's to them, that, like oursel, And here's to them that wish us weel, And here's to, &c. O WAT YE WHA'S IN YON TOWN. O WAT ye wha's in yon town, Now haply down yon gay green shaw: How blest ye flow'rs that round her blaw, How blest ye birds that round her sing, And welcome in the blooming year, And doubly welcome be the spring, The season to my Lucy dear. The The sun blinks blythe on yon town, And dearest bliss, is Lucy fair. Without my love, not a' the charms, And welcome Lapland's dreary sky. My cave wad be a lover's bower, And she a lovely little flower, That I wad tent and shelter there. O sweet is she in yon town, Yon sinkin sun's gane down upon; A fairer than's in yon town, upon. If angry fate is sworn my foe, For |