TH

The Highland Laddie.

HE lawland lads think they are fine;
But O they're vain and idly gawdy!
How much unlike that gracefu' mein,
And manly looks of my highland laddie;
Omy bonny bonny highland laddie,
My handfome charming highland laddie;
May heaven ftill guard, and love reward
Our lawland lafs and her highland laddie.

If I were free at will to chufe

To be the wealthiest lawland lady,
I'd take young Donald without trews,
With bonnet blew, and belted plaidy.
O my bonny, &c.

The braweft beau in borrows-town,
In a' his airs, with art made ready,
Compar'd to him, he's but a clown;
He's finer far in's tartan plaidy.
O my bonny, &c.

O'er benty hill with him I'll run,

And leave my lawland kin and dady, Frae winter's cauld, and fummer's fun, He'll screen me with his highland plaidy..

O my bonny, &c.

A painted room, and filken bed,

May pleafe a lawland laird and lady; But I can kifs, and be as glad

Behind a bush in's highland plaidy.

O my bonny, &c.

Few compliments between us pafs,
I ca' him my dear highland laddie,
And he ca's me his lawland lafs,
Syne rows me in beneath his plaidy.
9 my bonny, &c..

Nae

Nae greater joy I'll e'er pretend,

Than that his love prove true and fteady, Like mine to him, which ne'er shall end, While heaven preferves my highland laddie. O my bonny, &c.

ALLAN-WATER':
Or, My love ANNIE's very bonny.

WH

HAT numbers fhall the mufe repeat ?
What verse be found to praise my Annie ?

On her ten thousand graces wait,

Each swain admires, and owns fhe's bonny. Since first she trode the happy plain,

She fet each youthful heart on fire; Each nymph does to her fwain complain, That Annie kindles new defire.

This lovely darling dearest care,

This new delight, this charming Annie,
Like fummer's dawn, fhe's fresh and fair,
When Flora's fragrant breezes fan ye.
All day the am'rous youths conveen,
Joyous they fport and play before her;
All night, when the no more is feen,
In blissful dreams they ftill adore her.

Among the crowd Amyntor came,

He look'd, he lov'd, he bow'd to Annie ; His rifing fighs express his flame,

His words were few, his wishes many. With fmiles the lovely maid reply'd,

Kind fhepherd, why fhould I deceive ye?

Alas! your love must be deny❜d,

This deftin'd breast can ne'er relieve ye.

Young Damon came with Cupid's art,

His wyles, his fmiles, his charms beguiling. He ftole away my virgin heart;

Ceafe poor Amyntor, cease bewailing,

Some brighter beauty you may find,
On yonder plain the nymphs are many;
Then chufe fome heart that's unconfin'd,

And leave to Damon his own Annie.

C.

T

The Collier's bonny Laffie.

HE collier has a daughter,
And O fhe's wonder bonny,
A laird he was that fought her,
Rich baith in lands and money :
The tutors watch'd the motion
Of this young honest lover;
But love is like the ocean;
Wha can its depth discover!

He had the art to pleafe ye,
And was by a' respected;
His airs fat round him easy,
Genteel, but unaffected.
The collier's bonny laffie,

Fair as the new blown lillie,
Ay fweet, and never faucy,
Secur'd the heart of Willie.

He lov'd beyond expreffion

The charms that were about her,

And panted for poffeffion,

His life was dull without her.

After mature refolving,

Close to his breaft he held her,

In fafteft flames diffolving,
He tenderly thus tell'd her :

My bonny collier's daughter,
Let naething difcompose ye,
Tis no your fcanty tocher
Shall ever gar me lose ye:

For

For I have gear in plenty,
And love fays, 'tis my duty
To ware what heaven has lent me,
Upon your wit and beauty.

A

Where HELEN lies.

Toin Mourning.

H! by those tears in Nelly's eyes;
To hear thy tender fighs and cries,
The Gods ftand lift'ning from the skies,
Pleas'd with thy piety.

To mourn the dead, dear nymph, forbear,,
And of one dying take a care,
Who views thee as an angel fair,
Or fome divinity.

O be lefs graceful, or more kind,
And cool this fever of my mind,
Caus'd by the boy fevere and blind
Wounded I figh for thee;
While hardly dare I hope to rise
To fuch a height by Hymen's ties.
To lay me down where Heien lies,
And with thy charms be free.

Then muft I hide my love, and die,
When fuch a fovereign cure is by?
No; fhe can love, and I'll go try,
Whate'er my fate may be,

Which foon I'll read in her bright eyes,
With those dear agents I'll advise,

They tell the truth when tongues tell lies,
The least believ'd by me.

3

SONG.

SONG.

To the Tune of, Gallowshiels.

H the fhepherd's mournful fate,

A When doom'd to love, and doom'd to languish,

To bear the fcornful fair one's hate,
Nor dare difclofe his anguish.
Yet eager looks, and dying fighs,
My fecret foul discover,

While rapture trembling thro' mine eyes,
Reveals how much I love her.
The tender glance, the redning cheek,
O'erfpread with rifing blufhes,
A thousand various ways they speak
A thousand various wishes,

For oh! that form fo heavenly fair,
Thofe languid eyes fo fweetly fmiling,
That artless blush, and modest air,
So fatally beguiling.

Thy every look, and every grace,

So charm whene'er I view thee;
Till death o'ertake me in the chace,
Still will my hopes pursue thee.
Then when my tedious hours are past,
Be this last bleffing given,

Low at thy feet to breathe my last,
And die in fight of heaven.

To L. M. M.

'Tune, Rantin roaring Willie.

MARY! thy graces and glances, Thy fmiles fo inchantingly gay, And thoughts fo divinely harmonious, Clear wit and good humour difplay.

But