Lassie, say thou lo'es me; SHE'S FAIR AND FAUSE. She's fair and fause that causes my smart, She's broken her vow, she's broken my heart, A coof cam in wi' rowth o' gear, Whae'er ye be that woman love, O woman, lovely woman fair! AFTON WATER. Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Thou stock-dove, whose echo resounds thro' the glen, Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den, Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear, I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair. How lofty, sweet Afton, thý neighbouring hills, Far mark'd with the courses of clear, winding rills; There daily I wander as noon rises high, My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye. How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow! There oft as mild evening weeps over the lea, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me. Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, wave. Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays ; BONNIE BELL. The smiling spring comes in rejoicing, Now crystal clear are the falling waters, And bonnie blue are the sunny skies; Fresh o'er the mountains breaks forth the morn. ing, The ev'ning gilds the ocean's swell; All creatures joy in the sun's returning, The flow'ry spring leads sunny summer, THE GALLANT WEAVER. Where Cart rins rowin to the sea, Oh I had wooers aught or nine, My daddie sign'd my tocher-band While birds rejoice in leafy bowers; While bees delight in openíng flowers; LOUIS, WHAT RECK I BY THEE, Louis, what reck I by thee, Or Geordie on his ocean: In some editions sailor is substituted for weaver. Dyvor, beggar louns to me, Let her crown my love her law, FOR THE SAKE OF SOMEBODY. My heart is sair, I dare na tell, I could wake a winter night I could range the world around, Ye powers that smile on virtuous love, Frae ilka danger keep him free, I wad do-what wad I not, THE LOVELY LASS OF INVERNESS. The lovely lass o' Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e'en and morn she cries, alas! And ay, the saut tear blinds 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, That ever blest a woman's e'e! A MOTHER'S LAMENT FOR THE DEATH OF HER SON. Tune-" Finlayston House." Fate gave the word, the arrow sped, By cruel hands the sapling drops, So fell the pride of all my hopes, The mother linnet in the brake Death, oft I've fear'd thy fatal blow, O MAY, THY MORN. O May, thy morn was ne'er sae sweet, |