Now what could artless Jeanie do?
She had nae will to say him na:
At length she blushed a sweet consent,
And love was aye between them twa.

SIMMER'S A PLEASANT TIME.

SIMMER's a pleasant time;

Flowers of every colour;
The water rins o'er the heugh,
And I long for my true lover.

Aye waukin O,

Waukin still and wearie; Sleep I can get nane

For thinking on my dearie.

When I sleep I dream,

When I wauk I'm eerie ;
Sleep I can get nane

For thinking on my dearie.

Lonely night comes on,

A' the lave are sleepin';
I think on my bonnie lad,

And I bleer my een with greetin'.

BEWARE O' BONNIE ANN.

YE gallants bright, I rede ye right,
Beware o' bonnie Ann;

Her comely face sae fu' o' grace,
Your heart she will trepan.

Her een sae bright, like stars by night,

Her skin is like the swan;

Sae jimply laced her genty waist,

That sweetly ye might span.

Youth, grace, and love attendant move,
And pleasure leads the van:

In a' their charms, and conquering arms,
They wait on bonnie Ann.

The captive bands may chain the hands,
But love enslaves the man;

Ye gallants braw, I rede you a',
Beware o' bonnie Ann!

BLOOMING NELLY.

ON a bank of flowers, in a summer day,
For summer lightly drest,
The youthful blooming Nelly lay,
With love and sleep opprest:

When Willie, wandering through the wood,
Who for her favour oft had sued,

He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushed,
And trembled where he stood.

Her closed eyes, like weapons sheathed,
Were sealed in soft repose;

Her lips, still as she fragrant breathed,
It richer dyed the rose.

The springing lilies sweetly prest,

Wild-wanton, kissed her rival breast;

He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushedHis bosom ill at rest.

Her robes, light waving in the breeze,

Her tender limbs embrace!

Her lovely form, her native ease,
All harmony and grace!
Tumultuous tides his pulses roll,

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
Forgiving all and good.

WHEN ROSY MAY COMES IN WI' FLOWERS.

WHEN rosy May comes in wi' flowers,
To deck her gay green-spreading bowers,
Then busy, busy are his hours-

The gardener wi' his paidle.

The crystal waters gently fa';
The merry birds are lovers a';

The scented breezes round him blaw-
The gardener wi' his paidle.

When purple morning starts the hare
To steal upon her early fare,
Then through the dews he maun repair-
The gardener wi' his paidle.

When day, expiring in the west,

The curtain draws of Nature's rest,
He flies to her arms he lo'es the best-
The gardener wi' his paidle.

THE DAY RETURNS.

THE day returns, my bosom burns-
The blissful day we twa did meet ;
Though winter wild in tempest toiled,
Ne'er summer sun was half sae sweet.

Than a' the pride that loads the tide,
And crosses o'er the sultry line;

Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes,
Heaven gave me more-it made thee mine!

While day and night can bring delight,
Or nature aught of pleasure give,
While joys above my mind can move,
For thee, and thee alone I live!
When that grim foe of life below
Comes in between to make us part,
The iron hand that breaks our band
It breaks my bliss-it breaks my heart.

THE LAZY MIST.

THE lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill,
Concealing the course of the dark winding rill;
How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear,
As autumn to winter resigns the pale year!
The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown,
And all the gay foppery of summer is flown:
Apart let me wander, apart let me muse,

How quick time is flying, how keen fate pursues!

How long I have lived-but how much lived in vain!
How little of life's scanty span may remain !
What aspects old Time, in his progress, has worn!
What ties cruel Fate in my bosom has torn!
How foolish, or worse, till our summit is gained!
And downward, how weakened, how darkened, how
pained!

This life's not worth having, with all it can give:

For something beyond it poor man sure must live.

MY LOVE SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET.

My love she's but a lassie yet,

My love she's but a lassie yet;
We'll let her stand a year or twa,
She'll no be half sae saucy yet.
I rue the day I sought her, O,

I rue the day I sought her, O;
Wha gets her need na say she's wooed,
But he may say he's bought her, O!

Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet,

Come, draw a drap o' the best o't
yet;
Gae seek for pleasure where ye will,
But here I never missed it yet.
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't,
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;
The minister kissed the fiddler's wife,
An' could na preach for thinkin' o't.

JAMIE, COME, TRY ME.

Jamie, come, try me,
Jamie, come, try me,
If thou would win my love,
Jamie, come, try me.

If thou should ask my love,
Could I deny thee?

If thou would win my love,
Jamie, come, try me.

If thou should kiss me, love,
Who could espy thee?
If thou wad be my love,

Jamie, come, try me.