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altered appeared auld ballad banks beautiful beginning bonie bonny Burns's called century chorus collection composed composition copy Cromek dance Dick's Burns died early Edinburgh edition editor eighteenth century English entitled evidence fair heard heart Highland James John Johnson kind knew known laddie lady lass lassie letters lines London Lord manuscript Mary melodies Merry Miss Muses Museum never night notes o'er old song original Orpheus Caledonius Oswald's Companion Page Poems poet poetry popular present printed published Ramsay Ramsay's Miscellany Reels refers Reliques remarkable rest Riddell Robert says Scotch Scotland Scots Songs Scots Tunes Scottish Scottish Songs seen sing song stanza sung sweet thee Thomson thou took tradition verses volume wife writing written wrote young
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 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!