1711. Song But 'gainst my batteries if I find Thou kick, or vex me sore, And in the empire of thine heart, If others do pretend a part, Or if committees thou erect, And go on such a score, I'll laugh and sing at thy neglect, But if thou wilt prove faithful, then, I'll make thee glorious by my pen, I'll serve thee in such noble ways I'll crown and deck thee all with bays, James Graham, Marquess of Montrose. 24 32 40 SONG My silks and fine array, My smiles and languish'd air, By Love are driven away; Brings me yew to deck my grave: His face is fair as heaven When springing buds unfold: Whose heart is wintry cold? 6 His breast is Love's all-worshipp'd tomb, Bring me an axe and spade, Bring me a winding-sheet; When I my grave have made, Let winds and tempests beat: 12 18 1783. William Blake. THE BANKS OF DOON YE flowery banks o' bonnie Doon, And I sae fu' o' care! Thou 'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird That sings upon the bough; Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause Luve was true. Mary Morison Thou 'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird That sings beside thy mate; For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o' my fate. Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon And sae did I o' mine. Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose, And my fause luver staw the rose, 1792. 12 16 20 Robert Burns. MARY MORISON O MARY, at thy window be! It is the wish'd, the trysted hour. Yestreen, when to the trembling string I sat, but neither heard nor saw: 8 1793. Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace, 1800. Robert Burns. 16 24 O, SAW YE BONNIE LESLEY? O, SAW ye bonnie Lesley, As she gaed o'er the border? She 's gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther. 4 To see her is to love her, And love but her forever; For nature made her what she is, 8 Thou art a queen, fair Lesley, Thy subjects we, before thee; Thou art divine, fair Lesley, The hearts o' men adore thee. 12 O My Luve's Like a Red, Red Rose 1798. The deil he could na scaith thee, Or aught that wad belang thee; And say, "I canna wrang thee!" The Powers aboon will tent thee; Return again, fair Lesley, Return to Caledonie! That we may brag we hae a lass 16 20 24 Robert Burns. O MY LUVE 'S LIKE A RED, RED ROSE O MY Luve 's like a red, red rose And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, |