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appear arms ballad beauty bonny bower braes brave breast bride charms coming dear Donald e'er Earl Elore eyes face faid fair faithful fall father fear flowers fmiles frae fwain fweet fword gang give grace green gude hame hand happy haste head hear heart Highland hill I'll Jenny Jocky John kind king lady lafs land leave light live look Lord lover luve maid Mary maun meet mind mony morning mother nae mair nane ne'er neir never night o'er Peggy pleafure prove Queen rofe round sing song stand syne tell thair thee thefe thou thought tree true Tune wind Yarrow young youth zour
Page 26 - O wha is this has don this deid, This ill deid don to me, To send me out this time o' the yeir, To sail upon the se!
Page 248 - OR ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove An unrelenting foe to love, And when we meet a mutual heart, Come in between, and bid us part: Bid us sigh on from day to day, And wish, and wish the soul away; Till youth and genial years are flown, And all the life of life...
Page 69 - My love, as he had not been a lover. The boy put on his robes, his robes of green, His purple vest, 'twas my ain sewing; Ah!
Page 68 - 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 296 - 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.
Page 22 - LORD THOMAS and Fair Annet Sate a' day on a hill ; Whan night was cum, and sun was sett, They had not talkt their fill. Lord Thomas said a word in jest, Fair Annet took it ill : " A, I will nevir wed a wife Against my ain friends
Page 55 - And thus in rage did say : Ere thus I will out-braved be, One of us two shall die : I know thee well, an earl thou art, Lord Percy, so am I.
Page 19 - He was a braw gallant, And he rid at the ring: And the bonny Earl of Murray, Oh he might have been a king! He was a braw gallant, And he playd at the ba; And the bonny Earl of Murray Was the flower amang them a'.
Page 68 - Curse ye, curse ye, his useless, useless shield, My arm that wrought the deed of sorrow, The fatal spear that pierced his breast, His comely breast on the Braes of Yarrow.