Then ye may tell, how pell and mell, And Whigs to hell did flee, man." BLOOMING NELLY. TUNE- On a Bank of Flowers. ON a bank of flowers, in a summer-day, When Willie, wandering through the wood, He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushed, And trembled where he stood. Her closed eyes like weapons sheathed, Her lip, still as she fragrant breathed, The springing lilies sweetly prest, Wild-wanton, kissed her rival breast; He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushed, His bosom ill at rest. Her robes light waving in the breeze Her lovely form, her native ease, A faltering, ardent kiss he stole ; He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushed, And sighed his very soul. As flies the partridge from the brake On fear-inspired wings, So Nelly starting, half awake, Away affrighted springs: But Willie followed, as he should; He overtook her in the wood; He vowed, he prayed, he found the maid MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS. TUNE-Faille na Miosg. In this song Burns caught up the single streak of poetry which existed in a well-known old stall song, entitled The Strong Walls of Derry, and which commences thus: "The first day I landed, 'twas on Irish ground, The tidings came to me from fair Derry town, That my love was married, and to my sad wo, And I lost my first love by courting too slow." After many stanzas of similar doggerel, the author breaks out, as under an inspiration, with the one fine verse, which Burns afterwards seized as a basis for his own beautiful ditty: 66 My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The birthplace of valour, the country of worth ; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow '; Farewell to the straths and green valleys be low; Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods; Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods. My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roeMy heart's in the Highlands wherever I go. THE BANKS OF NITH. TUNE - Robie donna Gorach. THE Thames flows proudly to the sea, Where Cummins ance had high command. How lovely, Nith, thy fruitful vales, Where spreading hawthorns gaily bloom! How sweetly wind thy sloping dales, Where lambkins wanton through the broom! Though wandering, now, must be my doom, MY HEART IS A-BREAKING, DEAR TITTIE! My heart is a-breaking, dear tittie! Some counsel unto me come len', To anger them a' is a pity, But what will I do wi' Tam Glen? I'm thinking wi' sic a braw fellow In poortith I might make a fen'; What care I in riches to wallow, If I maunna marry Tam Glen? sister poverty - shift There's Lowrie, the Laird o' Drumeller, He brags and he blaws o' his siller, But when will he dance like Tam Glen? in My minnie does constantly deave me, mother-deafen And bids me beware o' young men ; |