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13.

SALLY IN OUR ALLEY.

Of all the girls that are so smart

There's none like pretty Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.
There is no lady in the land
Is half so sweet as Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Her father he makes cabbage-nets,
And through the streets does cry 'em;
Her mother she sells laces long

To such as please to buy 'em;

But sure such folks could ne'er beget
So sweet a girl as Sally!

She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

When she is by I leave my work,
I love her so sincerely;
My master comes like any Turk,
And bangs me most severely.
But let him bang his bellyful-
I'll bear it all for Sally;

For she's the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

Of all the days that's in the week
I dearly love but one day,

And that's the day that comes betwixt
The Saturday and Monday;

For then I'm drest all in my best
To walk abroad with Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

My master carries me to church,
And often am I blaméd

Because I leave him in the lurch
As soon as text is naméd:

I leave the church in sermon-time,
And slink away to Sally,

She is the darling of my heart,
And she lives in our alley.

When Christmas comes about again,
Oh then I shall have money!
I'll hoard it up, and box and all,
I'll give it to my honey;

Oh, would it were ten thousand pound!

I'd give it all to Sally;

For she's the darling of my heart,

And she lives in our alley.

My master and the neighbors all

Make game of me and Sally,

And but for her I'd better be

A slave, and row a galley;

But when my seven long years are out,
Oh then I'll marry Sally!

Oh then we'll wed, and then we'll bed-
But not in our alley!

- HARRY CAREY.

14.

AULD ROBIN GRAY.

WHEN the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame,
And a' the warld to rest are gane,

The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e,
While my gudeman lies sound by me.

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride; But saving a croun he had naething else beside:

To make the croun a pund, young Jamie gaed to sea; And the croun` and the pund were baith for me.

He hadna been awa' a week but only twa,

When my father brak his arm, and the cow was stown awa';

My mother she fell sick, and my Jamie at the sea-
And auld Robin Gray, came a-courtin' me.

My father couldna work, and my mother couldna spin;
I toiled day and night, but their bread I couldna win;
And Rob maintained them baith, and wi' tears in his e'e
Said, Jennie, for their sakes, oh marry me!

My heart it said nay; I looked for Jamie back;

But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a wrack;
His ship it was a wrack - why didna Jamie dee?
Or why do I live to cry, Wae's me?

My father urgit sair: my mother didna speak;

But she looked in my face till my heart was like to break:

They gi'ed him my hand, but my heart was at the sea; Sae auld Robin Gray he was gudeman to me.

I hadna been a wife a week but only four,

When mournfu' as I sat on the stane at the door,
I saw my Jamie's wraith, for I couldna think it he
Till he said, I'm come hame to marry thee.

Oh sair, sair did we greet, and muckle did we say;
We took but ae kiss, and I bad him gang away:
I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to dee;
And why was I born to say, Wae's me!

I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin;
I daurna think on Jamie, for that wad be a sin;
But I'll do my best a gude wife aye to be,
For auld Robin Gray he is kind unto me.

LADY ANNE BARNARD.

15.

JEANIE MORRISON.

I've wandered east, I've wandered west,
Through mony a weary way;

But never, never can forget

The love o' life's young day!

The fire that's blawn on Beltane e'en
May weel be black gin Yule;
But blacker fa' awaits the heart
Where first fond luve grows cule.

Oh dear, dear Jeanie Morrison,
The thochts o' bygane years
Still fling their shadows ower my path,
And blind my een wi' tears!

They blind my een wi' saut, saut tears,

And sair and sick I pine,
As memory idly summons up
The blithe blinks o' langsyne.

'Twas then we luvit ilk ither weel, 'Twas than we twa did part;

Sweet time, sad time! twa bairns at schule, Twa bairns, and but ae heart!

'Twas then we sat on ae high bink,

To leir ilk ither lear:

And tones, and looks, and smiles were shed, Remembered ever mair.

I wonder, Jeanie, often yet

When sitting on that bink,

Cheek touchin' cheek, loof locked in loof,
What our wee heads could think.

When baith bent doun ower ae braid page,
Wi' ae buik on our knee,

Thy lips were on thy lesson, but
My lesson was in thee.

Oh mind ye how we hung our heads,
How cheeks brent red wi' shame,
Whene'er the school-weans laughin' said,

We cleeked thegither hame?

And mind ye o' the Saturdays

(The schule then skail't at noon)

When we ran aft to speel the braes

The broomy braes o' June?

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