For a' that we can do or fay

'Gainst love, nae thinker heeds us, They ken our bofoms lodge the fae That by the heartstrings leads us.

To the tune of Leith Wynd

W1

JENNY.

ERE I affur'd you'll conftant prove,
Ye shou'd nae mair complain;

The easy maid, befet with love,

Few words will quickly gain;
For I must own, now fince you're free,
This too fond heart of mine

Has lang, a black-fole true to thee,

Wish'd to be pair'd with thine.

ROGER.

I'm happy now, oh ! let my

Upon thy breast recline;

head

The pleasure strikes me near hand dead;

Is JENNY then fae kind!

O let me brifs thee to my heart,
And round my arms entwine;
Delytfu' thought; we'll never part,
Come prefs thy mouth to mine.

To the tune of O'er Bogie.

WE

́EEL, I agree, ye're fure of me;
Next to my father gae ;

Make him content to give consent,
He'll hardly fay you nay:

For you have what he wad be at,
And will commend you weel,

Since parents auld think love grows cauld,
Where bairns want milk and meal.

Shou'd he deny, I care na by,

He'd contradict in vain,

Tho' a' my kin had faid and fworn,
But thee I will have nane.

Then never range nor learn to change,
Like these in high degree:

And if ye prove faithful in love,
You'll find nae faut in me.

To the tune of Wat ye wha I met yestreen.

WOW from rufticity and love,

Whose flames but over lowly burn,

My gentle shepherd must be drove,

His foul must take another turn:

As the rough diamond from the mine,
In breakings only fhews his light,

Till polishing has made it shine;

Thus learning makes the genius bright.

To the tune of Kirk wad let me be.

UTY and part of reason,

DU

Plead ftrong on the parent's fide,
Which love fuperior calls treason;

The strongest must be obey'd;
For now tho' I'm one o' the gentry,
My conftancy falfehood repels,
For change in my heart is no entry,
Still there my dear PEGGY excells.

To the tune of Tweedfide.

HEN hope was quite funk in despair,

WH

My heart it was going to break;
My life appear'd worthless my care,
But now I will fave't for thy fake.
Where-e'er my love travels by day,
Where-ever he lodges by night,
With me his dear image fhall ftay,

And my foul keep him ever in fight.

With patience I'll wait the long year,
And study the gentleft charms;
Hope time away till thou appear,

To lock thee for ay in thofe arms.
Whilst thou was a shepherd, I priz'd
No higher degree in this life;
But now I'll endeavour to rife

To a height is becoming thy wife.

For beauty that's only skin-deep,
Muft fade like the gowans of MAY,
But inwardly rooted will keep
For ever, without a decay.
Nor age, nor the changes of life,

Can quench the fair fire of love,

If virtue's ingrain'd in the wife,

And the husband have sense to approve.

To the tune of The Bufh aboon Traquair.

T fetting day, and rifing morn,

AT

With foul that ftill fhall love thee,

I'll ask of Heaven thy safe return,

With all that can improve thee.
I'll vifit oft the birken bush,

Where first thou kindly told me
Sweet tales of love, and hid my blush,
Whilft round thou didst enfold me.

To all our haunts I will repair,

By green-wood fhaw, or fountain,
Or where the summer day I'd share
With thee, upon yon mountain.
There will I tell the trees, and flowers,
From thoughts unfeign'd and tender,
By vows you're mine, by love is yours
A heart which cannot wander.

THE

Bonny grey-eyed morn.

HE bony grey-ey'd morn begins to peep, And darkness flies before the rising ray, The hearty hynd starts from his lazy sleep, To follow healthful labours of the day : Without a guilty fting to wrinkle his brow, The lark and the linnet tend his levee, And he joins their concert, driving his plow, From toil of grimace and pageantry free.

While flufter'd with wine, or madden'd with lofs
Of half an estate, the prey of a main,
The drunkard and gamester tumble and tofs,

Wishing for calmness and flumber in vain ; Be my portion health, and quietness of mind, Plac'd at due distance from parties and state, Where neither ambition, nor avarice blind,

Reach him who has happiness link'd to his fate.

Sweet ANNIE frae the sea beach came.

S"

WEET ANNIE frae the fea-beach came, Where Jocky speel'd the veffel's fide Ah! wha can keep their heart at hame,

When Jocky's toft aboon the tyde : Far aff to distant realms he gangs,

Yet I'll be true as he has been;

And when ilk lass about him thrangs,
He'll think on ANNIE, his faithful ain.

;