O PHILLY. MY WIFE'S A WINSOME WEE THING. SHE is a winsome wee thing This sweet, wee wife o' mine. I never saw a fairer, I never lo'ed a dearer, And niest my heart I'll wear her She is a winsome wee thing, This sweet, wee wife o' mine. The warl's wrack we share o't, O PHILLY! Tune-"The sow's tail." HE. O PHILLY! happy be that day, SHE. O Willy! aye I bless the grove Where first I owned my maiden love, HE. As songsters of the early year 415 As on the briar the budding rose НЕ. The milder sun and bluer sky, SHE. The little swallow's wanton wing, HE. The bee that through the sunny hour SHE. The woodbine in the dewy weet, Is nocht sae fragrant or sae sweet HE. Let Fortune's wheel at random rin, SHE. What's a' the joys that gowd can gi'e! And that's my ain dear Willy. DAINTY DAVIE. DAINTY DAVIE.1 Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers, To deck her gay green spreading bowers; CHORUS. Meet me on the warlock knowe,2 The crystal waters round us fa', When purple morning starts the hare, When day, expiring in the west, I flee to his arms I lo'e best, And that's my ain dear Davie. Meet me in the warlock knowe, 417 "Daintie Davie " is the title of an old Scotch song, from which Burns has taken nothing but the title and the measure.—CURRIE. 2 The wizard's hill. BI 418 FULL WELL THOU KNOW'ST. FULL WELL THOU KNOW'ST.1 Tune-"Rothiemurche's Rant." CHORUS. FAIREST maid on Devon banks, And smile as thou were wont to do? FULL well thou know'st I love thee dear, Then come, thou fairest of the fair, No love but thine my heart shall know. "I tried my 1 Supposed to be the last song written by Burns. hand on Rothiemurche' this morning. The measure is so difficult, that it is impossible to infuse much genius into the lines.”—R. B. O Were I on Parnassus Hill Third Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry A Bard's Epitaph Wordsworth at the Grave of Burns King Robert Bruce's address to his troops at Bannockburn in facsimilie A Prayer under the pressure of Violent Anguish. Page. 19 32 35 43 45 52 58 61 Winter, a Dirge 175 176 The Death and Dying Words of poor Mailie 177 Poor Mailie's Elegy 179 To a Mouse on turning up her Nest with the Plough - 199 201 206 215 218 224 229 237 243 The Auld Farmer's New Year Morning Salutation to his 246 250 257 259 260 264 Verses to an Old Sweetheart after her Marriage Verses written under Violent Grief Epistle to a Young Friend, Andrew Hunter Aiken Farewell to Ayrshire The Brigs of Ayr 266 267 268 270 271 |