Notes on Scottish Song

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H. Frowde, 1908 - Ballads, Scots - 134 pages

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Page ix - The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Page 15 - His breath like caller air ; His very foot has music in't As he comes up the stair. And will I see his face again ? And will I hear him speak ? I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought, In troth I'm like
Page 9 - For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne! Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind ? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne ? And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp, And surely I'll be mine, And we'll tak a cup o...
Page 48 - MY JO. JOHN Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent ; Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent ; But now your brow is beld, John Your locks are like the snaw ; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo.
Page 9 - Should auld acquaintance be forgot And never brought to min' ? Should auld acquaintance be forgot And auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne.
Page 103 - I hear her in the tunefu' birds, I hear her charm the air : There's not a bonie flower that springs By fountain, shaw, or green ; There's not a bonie bird that sings, But minds me o
Page 46 - And mony a hill between ; But day and night my fancy's flight Is ever wi' my Jean. I see her in the dewy flowers, I see her sweet and fair : I hear her in the tunefu...
Page 102 - They'll ne'er make a tempest like that in my mind; Though loudest of thunder on louder waves roar, That's naething like leaving my love on the shore. To leave thee behind me my heart is sair...
Page 48 - My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer, A-chasing the wild deer and following the roe — My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go!
Page 120 - THERE was a jovial beggar, He had a wooden leg, Lame from his cradle, And forced for to beg. And a begging we will go, we'll go, we'll go; And a begging we will go...

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