Now what could artless Jeanie do? SIMMER'S A PLEASANT TIME. SIMMER's a pleasant time; Flowers of every colour; 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 ; For thinking on my dearie. Lonely night comes on, A' the lave are sleepin'; And I bleer my een with greetin'. BEWARE O' BONNIE ANN. YE gallants bright, I rede ye right, Her comely face sae fu' o' grace, 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, In a' their charms, and conquering arms, The captive bands may chain the hands, Ye gallants braw, I rede you a', BLOOMING NELLY. ON a bank of flowers, in a summer day, When Willie, wandering through the wood, He gazed, he wished, he feared, he blushed, Her closed eyes, like weapons sheathed, Her lips, still as she fragrant breathed, 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, 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, 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 WHEN ROSY MAY COMES IN WI' FLOWERS. WHEN rosy May comes in wi' flowers, The gardener wi' his paidle. The crystal waters gently fa'; The scented breezes round him blaw- When purple morning starts the hare When day, expiring in the west, The curtain draws of Nature's rest, THE DAY RETURNS. THE day returns, my bosom burns- Than a' the pride that loads the tide, Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes, While day and night can bring delight, THE LAZY MIST. THE lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill, How quick time is flying, how keen fate pursues! How long I have lived-but how much lived in vain! 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; I rue the day I sought her, O; Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet, Come, draw a drap o' the best o't JAMIE, COME, TRY ME. Jamie, come, try me, If thou should ask my love, If thou would win my love, If thou should kiss me, love, Jamie, come, try me. |