« ForrigeFortsæt »
And waste my soul with care ;
When fated to despair !
To hope may be forgiven;
So much in sight of heaven.
HERE AWA' THERE AWA'.
AIR.-HERE AWA' THERE AWA'.
II. Winter winds blew, loud and cauld, at our parting, Fears for my Willie brought tears in my e'e; Welcome now simmer, and welcome my Willie; The simmer to nature, my Willie to me.
III. Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave of your slumbers, How
your dread howling a lover alarms! Wauken, ye breezes ! row gently, ye billows ! And waft my dear laddie ance mair to my arms.
But oh, if he 's faithless, and minds na his Nanie,
BRAW LADS ON YARROW BRAES.
Braw, braw lads on Yarrow braes,
Ye wander thro' the blooming heather ;
Aboon them a' I loo him better ;
And tho' I hae na meikle tocher,
That coft contentment, peace, or pleasure ; The bands and bliss o' mutual love,
O that's the chiefest warld's treasure !
THERE'S AULD ROB MORRIS,
AIR.--AULD ROB MORRIS.
I. There's auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen, He's the king of gude fellows, and wale of auld men; He has gowd in his coffers, he has sheep, he has kine, And ae bonnie lassie, his darling and mine.
III. But oh, she's an heiress, auld Robin 's a laird, And my daddie has nought but acot-house and yard: A wooer like me maunna hope to come speed; The wounds I maun hide which will soon be my dead.