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The Tea-Table Miscellany: Or, a Collection of Choice Songs, Scots and ...
No preview available - 2018
appear arms auld beauty bonny breaſt bright charms comes cou'd court dance dear delight drink e'er eyes face fair fall fate fear fighs fight fing fire firſt frae give grace green grow hand happy head hear heart heaven hills hope I'll Jenny kind kindly king kiſs lady laſs leave light live looks lover maid mair meet mind morning move muſt ne'er never night nymph o'er once pain Peggy plain play pleaſe pleaſure poor prove round ſaid ſay ſee ſhall ſhe ſhould ſmiles ſome SONG ſoon ſoul ſtill ſuch ſwain ſweet tell thee There's theſe thing thoſe thou thought thouſand true Tune Twas vows wife wine wou'd young youth
Page 229 - Where gat ye that bonny bonny bride ? Where gat ye that winsome marrow ? A. I gat her where I dare na weil be seen, Puing the birks on the Braes of Yarrow.
Page 297 - Twas this deprived my soul of rest, And rais'd such tumults in my breast ; For while I gaz'd, in transport tost, My breath was gone, my voice was lost : My bosom glow'd ; the subtle flame Ran quick through all my vital frame ; O'er my dim eyes a darkness hung ; My ears with hollow murmurs rung. In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd ; My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd ; My feeble pulse forgot to play ; I fainted, sunk, and died away.
Page 86 - How blyth and merry wad I be ! And I wad never think lang. He grew canty, and she grew fain ; But little did her auld minny ken What thir slee twa togither were say'ng, When wooing they were sae thrang. And O ! quo' he, ann ye were as black, As e'er the crown of my dady's hat, 'Tis I wad lay thee by my back, And awa' wi
Page 146 - I wear: And cold and weary lasts our night, Till that last morn appear. But hark! — the cock has warn'd me hence; A long and late adieu! Come, see, false man, how low she lies, Who dy'd for love of you.
Page 256 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Page 146 - How could you say my face was fair, And yet that face forsake? How could you win my virgin heart, Yet leave that heart to break?
Page 206 - Just entered in her teens, Fair as the day, and sweet as May, Fair as the day, and always gay. My Peggy is a young thing, And I'm not very auld, Yet well I like to meet her at The wauking of the fauld. My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, Whene'er we meet alane, I wish nae mair to lay my care, — I wish nae mair of a' that's rare. My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, To a' the lave I'm cauld; But she gars a' my spirits glow, At wauking of the fauld.
Page 230 - Sweet smells the birk, green grows, green grows the grass, Yellow on Yarrow's bank the gowan ; Fair hangs the apple frae the rock, Sweet the wave of Yarrow flowan.
Page 207 - I wish nae mair of a' that's rare. My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, To a' the lave I'm cauld; But she gars a' my spirits glow, At wauking of the fauld. My Peggy smiles sae kindly, Whene'er I whisper love. That I look down on a' the town, — That I look down upon a crown.