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And for an hour she'll scarcely speak;
Who'd not call her a gawkie?
O Jamie, ye ha’e mony ta’en,
Sae ne'er think me a gawkie.
E’er to think thee a gawkie.
But, whisht, nae mair of this we'll speak,
I trow he likes the gawkie.
Quoth she, that's like a gawkie.
Why look with insolent disdain
On those undeck”d with wealth or state ? Can costly robes, or beds of down,
Or all the gems that deck the fair ; Can all the glories of a crown
Give health, or ease the brow of Care ?
The fcepter'd king, the burden'd slave,
The humble and the haughty die ;
In duft, without distinction lie.
Who once the greatest titles wore,
And all their honours are no more.
So fies the meteor thro' the skies,
And spreads along a gilded train ; When shot-'tis gone ; its beauty dies,
Diffolves to common air again. So 'tis with us, my jovial souls,—
Let friendfhip reign, while here we stay: Let's crown our joy with flowing bowls ;
When Jove commands we must obey.
By a Brother of the Lodge of St Luke, Edinburgh.
TuneIn the garb of old Gaul.
With the strongest attachment, true brotherly love,
And since we're bound by secrecy to unity and love, Let us, like brethren, faithful to ev'ry brother prove : Thus, hand in hand, let’s firmly stand,
All Masons in a ring, Protectors of our native land,
The Craft, and the King.
Tho' fome, with ambition, for glory contend, And when they've attain'd it, despise each poor friend, Yet a Mason, tho' noble, his fame to insure, Counts each Mason his brother tho' ever fo
poor. And since we're bound, &c.
But not to our brethren alone we confine
And since we're bound by fecrecy to unity and love,
With justice, with candour, our bofoms are warm’d, Our tongues are with truth and sincerity arm’d; We're loyal, we're trusty, we're faithful to those, Who treat us as friends, and we smile at our foes.
And since we're bound, &c.
We bend to the King, to our Mafter we bend ;
And since we're bound, &c.
. TERN winter has left us, the trees are in
bloom, And cowslips and vi'lets the meadows perfumes
While kids are disporting, and birds fill the spray,
Jockey. Among the young lilies, my Jenny, I've stray'd,
Pinks, daisies, and woodbines I bring to my maid ;
Jenny. Ah! Jockey, I fear you intend to beguile,
When feated with Molly last night on the ftile,
Forgetting poor Jenny, your Queen of the May. Fockey. Young Willy is handsome, in shepherd's green
drest, He gave you
these ribbons that hang at your breaft, Besides three sweet kisses upon the new hay ;
Was that done like Jenny, the Queen of the May? Jenny. This garland of roses no longer I prize,
Since Jockey, false-hearted, his passion denies :
For Jenny's no longer the Queen of the May.
wrong, Your name is for ever the theme of my song ; From the dews of pale eve’ to the dawning of day, I fing but of Jenny, my Queen of the May.
Jenny. Again, balmy comfort with transport I view,
My fears are all vanish'd since Jockey is true :
convey, That Jenny alone you've crown'd Queen of the May.
Jockey. Come all you young lovers, I pray you
near, Avoid all suspicion, whate'er may appear ; Believe not your eyes,
your peace they betray : Then come, my
dear Jenny, and hail the new May. Come all young lovers, &c.
S O N G
HIGHL AND QUEE N.
O more my song shall be, ye fwains,
Of purling Itreams, or fow'ry plains ;
In her, sweet innocence you'll find,
No sordid wish, or trifling joy,
How blest that youth, whom gentle Fate
S O N G
HIGHLAND KIN G.
V/E muses nine, O lend your aid,
Inspire a tender bashful maid,