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BONNIE BELL.

THE Smiling Spring comes in rejoicing,
And surly Winter grimly flies:
Now crystal clear are the falling waters,
And bonnie blue are the sunny skies
s;
Fresh o'er the mountains breaks forth the morning,
The ev'ning gilds the ocean's swell;
All creatures joy in the sun's returning,
And I rejoice in my bonnie Bell,

The flow'ry Spring leads sunny Summer,
And yellow Autumn presses near,
Then in his turn comes gloomy Winter,
Till smiling Spring again appear.
Thus seasons dancing, life advancing,
Old Time and Nature their changes tell;
But never ranging, still unchanging
I adore my bonnie Bell.

THE GALLANT WEAVER.

WHERE Cart rins rowin to the sea,
By mony a flow'r and spreading tree,
There lives a lad, the lad for me
He is a gallant weaver.

Oh! I had wooers aught or nine,
They gied me rings and ribbons fine;

VOL. IV.

M

́And I was fear'd my heart would tine,
And I gied it to the weaver.

My daddie sign'd my tocher-band,
To gie the lad that has the land;
But to my heart I'll add my
And gie it to the weaver.

hand,

While birds rejoice in leafy bowers;
While bees delight in op'ning flowers;
While corn grows green in simmer showers;
I'll love my gallant weaver.*

LOUIS, WHAT RECK I BY THEE?

Louis, what reck I by thee,
Or Geordie on his ocean?
Dyvor, beggar louns to me,
I reign in Jeanie's bosom.

Let her crown my love her law,
And in her breast enthrone me:

Kings and nations, swith awa!
Reif randies I disown ye!

In some Editions sailor is substituted for weaver.

FOR THE SAKE OF SOMEBODY.

My heart is sair, I dare na tell,
My heart is sair for somebody;
I could wake a winter night
For the sake o' somebody.
Oh-hon! for somebody!
Oh-hey! for somebody!

I could rang the world around,
For the sake o' somebody.

Ye Powers that smile on virtuous love,
O, sweetly smile on somebody!

Frae ilka danger keep him free,
And send me safe my somebody.
Oh-hon! for somebody!

Oh-hey! for somebody!

I wad do what wad I not?
For the sake o' somebody!

THE LOVELY LASS OF INVERNESS.

THE lovely lass o' Invervess,

Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
For e'en and morn she cries, alas !
And ay the saut tear blins her e'e:
Drumossie moor, Drumossie day,"
A waefu' day it was to me;
For there I lost my father dear,

My father dear, and brethren three.

Their winding sheet the bluidy clay,
Their graves are growing green to see;
And by them lies the dearest lad

That ever blest a woman's e'e!
Now, wae to thee, thou cruel lord,
A bluidy man I trow thou be;
For mony a heart thou hast made sair,

That ne'er did wrong to thine or thee.

A MOTHER'S LAMENT FOR THE DEATH OF HER SON.

Tune FINLAYSTON HOUSE."

FATE gave the word, the arrow sped,
And pierc'd my darling's heart;
And with him all the joys are fled
Life can to me impart.

By cruel hands the sapling drops,

In dust dishonour'd laid :
So fell the pride of all my hopes,
My age's future shade.

The mother linnet in the brake
Bewails her ravish'd young;
So I, for my lost darling's sake,
Lament the live-day long.
Death, oft I've fear'd thy fatal blow,

Now, fond I bare my breast:
O, do thou kindly lay me low
With him I love, at rest.

O MAY, THY MORN.

O MAY, thy morn was ne'er sae sweet,
As the mirk night o' December;
For sparkling was the rosy wine,
And private was the chamber :
And dear was she I dare na name,
But I will ay remember.
And dear, &c.

And here's to them, that, like oursel,
Can push about the jorum ;

And here's to them that wish us weel,
May a' that's guid watch o'er them;
And here's to them, we dare na tell,

The dearest o' the

quorum.

And here's to, &c.

O, WAT YE WHA'S IN YON TOWN?

O, WAT ye wha's in yon town,
Ye see the e'enin sun upon?
The fairest dame's in yon town,
That e'enin sun is shining on,`

Now haply down yon gay green shaw,
She wanders by yon spreading tree :
How blest ye flowers that round her blaw,
Ye catch the glances o' her e'e!

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