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Aboon my breath I daurna speak,

For fear I rise your waukrife daddy;
Cauld's the blast upon my cheek;
O rise, rise my bonny lady.

Tell me, &c.
She op't the door, she let him,"

He cuist aside his dreepin' plaidie; • Blaw your warst, ye rain and win',

Since Maggie, now I'm in aside ye.'

COMIN' THRO' THE RYE.
Ir a body meet a body comin' through the rye:
If a body kiss a body, need a body cry?

Ev'ry lassie has her laddie,
Nane, they say, ha'e I;
Yet a' the lads they smile at me,

When comin' through the rye.
Amang the train there is a swain

I dearly lo'e mysel';
But where's his hame, or what's his name,

I dinna care to tell.
If a body meet a body comin' frae the town,
If a body greet a body, need a body frown?

Ev'ry lassie has her laddie,
Nape, they say, ha'e I;
Yet a' the lads they smile at me,

When comin' through the rye.
Amang the train there is a swain

I dearly lo'e'mysel';
But where's his hame, or what's his name,

I dinna care to tell.

ROB ROY MACGREGOR.

TUNE" Dunean Gray..
PARDON now the bold outlaw,

Rob Roy Macgregor, O!

Grant him mercy, gentles a’,

Rob Roy Macgregor, 0,
Let your hands and hearts agree,
Set the Highland laddie free,
Make us sing wi' muckle glee,

Rob Roy Macgregor, 0!
Long the state has doom'd his fa',

Rob Roy Macgregor, 0!
Still he spurned the hatefu' law,

Rob Roy Macgregor, O!
Scots can for their country die;
Ne'er for Britain's foes they flee,
A’ that's past forget-forgi’e,

Rob Roy Macgregor, 0!
Scotland's fear and Scotland's pride,

Rob Roy Macgregor, O!
Your award must now abide,

Rob Roy Macgregor, O!
Lang your favors hae been mine,
Favors I will ne'er resign,
Welcome then for auld lang syne,

Rob Roy Macgregor, O!

BLUE BONNETS OVER THE BORDER. MARCH, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale,

Why, my lads, dinna ye march forward in order? March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale,

All the blue bonnets are over the border. Many a banner spread, futters above your head:

Many a crest that is famous in story, Mount and make ready then, sons of the mountain

glen, Fight for your Queen and the old Scottish glory.

Come from the hills where our hirsels are grazing,

Come from the glen of the buck and the roe; Come to the crag where the beacon is-blazing;

Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow. Trumpets are sounding, war-steeds are bounding;

Stand to your arms, and march in good order; England shall many a day tell of the bloody fray,

When the blue bonnets came over the border.

COME O’ER THE STREAM CHARLIE. COME o'er the stream Charlie, dear Charlie, brave

Charlie, Come o'er the stream Charlie, and dine wi' M'lean; And though you be weary, we'll make your heart

cheery, And welcome our Charlie and his royal train. We'll bring down the track-deer, we'll bring down the

black steer, The lamb from the break, an' the doe from the glen, The salt sea we'll harry, and bring to our Charlie

The cream from the boothy and curd from the pen. And you shall drink freely the dews of Glen-cheerly,

That stream in the star-light when kings do not ken; And deep shall your meed be of wine that is ruddy,

To drink to your sire, and his friend the M'lean. If aught will invite you, or more will delight you,

'Tis ready,-a troop of our bold highland men Shall range o’er the heather, with bonnet and feather, Strong arms and broad claymores, three hundred and

ten.

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THIS LOVE-HOW IT PLAGUES ME. This love how it plagues me, young Ellen did say, As she sat at her wheel on a fine summer's day;

Before I saw Sandy I rose with the lark,
And as merrily sang frae the morning till dark;
But now when I'm singing, he comes in my mind,
Tho' he's neither before me, nor yet is behind:
O love do you plague ilka body like me,
For Sandy ne'er promised a lover to be
Wi' me at the gloaming we've wander'd alane,
And at kirk, and at market, wi' me he has gane;
He speaks not of love but he's blithe when we meet;
Nor allows me to pass unobserv'd in the street.
Be still then my heart, let my wheel go its round,
For mother will wonder what's come o' thy sound;
I needna be jealous, for why should I be,
Since Sandy ne'er promised his true love to me.
While Ellen was musing the door it flew wide:
In a moment young Sandy was down by her side;
I'm come my dear Ellen, you mauna say nay,
To ask you to wed me, and Tuesday's the day;
Your mother's consented, 0 now my love speak;
Yet she said not a word, and pale grew her cheek;
At length with a smile, and the tear in her e'e,
She clung to his bosom and said it will be.'

THE BANNER OF BLUE. STRIKE up! strike up! strike up! Scottish minstrels

so gay,

Tell of Wallace, that brave warlike man; Sing also of Bruce--your banners display,

While each chief leads on his bold clan.
Here's success, Caledonia to thee;

To the sons of the thistle so true,
Then march! gaily march! so cantie and free,

There's none like the banners so blue

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Mar... on. march on! march on! to the brazen trum

pet's sound, How quickly in battle, in battle array; Each brave Highland chief assembles his men,

And they march to the bagpipes so gay.
Here's success, Caledonia, to thee,

To the sons of the thistle so true;
Then march! gaily march! so cantie and free,

There's none like the banners so blue.

AULD ROBIN GRAY. YOUNG Jamie lov'd me weel, and ask'd me for his

bride, But saving a crown, he had naithing else beside; To make a crown a pound, my Jamie went to sea, And the crown and the pound were baith for me. He had nae been gane but a year and a day, When my faither brake his arm and our cow was stole

away;
My mither she fell sick, and Jamie at the sea,
And auld Robin Gray came a courting to me.
My faither cou'd na wark, and my mither cou'd na spin,
I toil'd day and night, but their bread I cou'd na win,
Auld Robin fed 'em baith, and wi' tears in his ee,
Said Jeanny for their sakes oh marry me;
My heart it fast hae, and I look'd for Jamie back,
But the wind it blew hard, and his ship was a wrack,
His ship was a wrack, why did na Jeanny dee,
And why was she spar'd to cry wae's me
My faither urg'd me fair, and my mither did na speak,
But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to

break,
They gi’ed him my hand, tho' my heart was at sea,
And Auld Robin Gray is gude-man to me;
I had na been a wife but weeks only four,
When sitting sae mournfully out my ain door,

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