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Auld Lang Sque.

SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' lang syne?

CHORUS.

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,

And pu'd the gowans fine;

But we've wandered mony a weary foot, Sin auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl't i' the burn,

Frae mornin' sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roar'd,
Sin auld lang syne.

And here's a hand, my trusty fiere,
And gie's a hand o' thine ;

And we'll tak a right guid willie-waught,
For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint stoup,
And surely I'll be mine;

And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne,

Where are the Sans?

TUNE-Saw ye my father?

WHERE are the joys I have met in the

morning,

That danc'd to the lark's early song? Where is the peace that awaited my wand'ring, At evening the wild woods among?

No more a-winding the course of yon river, And marking sweet flow'rets so fair:

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DELUDED Swain, the pleasure

The fickle Fair can give thee,

Is but a fairy treasure

Thy hopes will soon deceive thee.

The billows on the ocean,

The breezes idly roaming, The clouds' uncertain motion,

They are but types of woman.
Oh! art thou not ashamed

To doat upon a feature?
If man thou would'st be named,
Despise the silly creature.
Go, find an honest fellow!

Good claret set before thee:

No more I trace the light footsteps of Hold on till thou art mellow,

pleasure,

But sorrow and sad sighing care.

Is it that summer's forsaken our vallies,

And grim surly winter is near?

No, no! the bees humming round the gay

roses,

Proclaim it the pride of the year.

Fain would I hide what I fear to discover, Yet long, long too well have I known,

All that has caused this wreck in my bosom, Is Jenny, fair Jenny alone.

Time cannot aid me, my griefs are immortal, Nor hope dare a comfort bestow :

Come then, enamour'd and fond of my anguish,

Enjoyment I'll seek in my woe.

And then to bed in glory.

Thine Sam, my Faithful Fair.
TUNE-Liggeram Cosh [the Quaker's wife].
THINE am I, my faithful fair,
Thine, my lovely Nancy;
Ev'ry pulse along my veins,
Ev'ry roving fancy.

To thy bosom lay my heart,
There to throb and languish:
Tho' despair had wrung its core,
That would heal its anguish.

Take away these rosy lips,

Rich with balmy treasure: Turn away thine eyes of love, Lest I die with pleasure.

What is life when wanting love?

Night without a morning: Love's the cloudless summer sun, Nature gay adorning.

My Sponse, Nancy. TUNE-My Jo Janet. "HUSBAND, husband, cease your strife, Nor longer idly rave, sir; Tho' I am your wedded wife,

Yet I am not your slave, sir."

"One of two must still obey,
Nancy, Nancy;

Is it man, or woman, say,
My spouse, Nancy ?"
"If 'tis still the lordly word,
Service and obedience ;
I'll desert my sov'reign lord,
And so good-bye allegiance!"

"Sad will I be, so bereft,
Nancy, Nancy,
Yet I'll try to make a shift,
My spouse, Nancy."

My poor heart then break it must,
My last hour I'm near it :
When you lay me in the dust,

Think, think how you will bear it."
"I will hope and trust in heaven,
Nancy, Nancy,
Strength to bear it will be given,
My spouse, Nancy."

"Well, sir, from the silent dead,

Still I'll try to daunt you;
Ever round your midnight bed
Horrid sprites shall haunt you."
"I'll wed another like my dear,
Nancy, Nancy;
Then all hell will fly for fear,
My spouse, Nancy."

The Banks of Crre.
TUNE-The Banks of Cree.

HERE is the glen, and here the bower,
All underneath the birchen shade;
The village-bell has toll'd the hour,

Oh, what can stay my lovely maid?

'Tis not Maria's whispering call;
'Tis but the balmy-breathing gale,
Mix'd with some warbler's dying fall,
The dewy stars of eve to hail.

It is Maria's voice I hear!

So calls the woodlark in the grove, His little faithful mate to cheer!

At once 'tis music and 'tis love. And art thou come ?—and art thou true? Oh welcome, dear to love and me And let us all our vows renew, Along the flowery banks of Cree.

On the Seas and Far Away. TUNE-O'er the hills, &c. How can my poor heart be glad, When absent from my sailor lad ? How can I the thought forego, He's on the seas to meet the foe? Let me wander, let me rove, Still my heart is with my love; Nightly dreams and thoughts by day Are with him that's far away.

CHORUS.

On the seas and far away, On stormy seas and far away; Nightly dreams and thoughts by day Are aye with him that's far away. When in summer's noon I faint, As weary flocks around me pant, Haply in the scorching sun My sailor's thund'ring at his gun; Bullets spare my only joy! Bullets, spare my darling boy! Fate, do with me what you may, Spare but him that's far away!

At the starless midnight hour,

When winter rules with boundless power;

As the storms the forest tear,

And thunders rend the howling air,
Listening to the doubling roar,

Surging on the rocky shore,

All I can-I weep

weep and

pray,

For his weal that's far away.

Peace, thy olive wand extend,

And bid wild war his ravage end,
Man with brother man to meet,
And as a brother kindly greet:

Then may Heaven with prosperous gales,
Fill my sailor's welcome sails,
To my arms their charge convey,
My dear lad that's far away.

Ca' the Vomes to the Knowes.

CHORUS.

CA' the yowes to the knowes,
Ca' them where the heather grows,
Ca' them where the burnie rows,
My bonnie dearie.

Hark the mavis' evening sang
Sounding Clouden's woods amang;
Then a-faulding let us gang,

My bonnie dearie.

We'll gae down by Clouden side
Thro' the hazels spreading wide,
O'er the waves that sweetly glide

To the moon sae clearly,

Yonder Clouden's silent towers, Where at moonshine, midnight hours, O'er the dewy bending flowers,

Fairies dance sae cheery.

Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear;
Thou'rt to love and heaven sae dear,
Nocht of ill may come thee near,
My bonnie dearie.

Fair and lovely as thou art,
Thou hast stown my very heart;
I can die-but canna part,
My bonnie dearie.

While waters wimple to the sea;
While day blinks in the lift sae hie;
Till clay-cauld death shall blin' my ee,
Ye shall be my dearie.

She says she Locs me Best of A'.
TUNE-Onagh's Lock.

SAE flaxen were her ringlets,
Her eyebrows of a darker hue,
Bewitchingly o'er-arching

Twa laughing een o' bonnie blue.
Her smiling, sae wiling,

Would make a wretch forget his woe: What pleasure, what treasure,

Unto these rosy lips to grow: Such was my Chloris' bonnie face,

When first her bonnie face I saw, And aye my Chloris' dearest charm, She says she loes me best of a'.

Like harmony her motion;

Her pretty ancle is a spy Betraying fair proportion,

Wad make a saint forget the sky. Sae warming, sae charming,

Her faultless form and graceful air; Ilk feature-auld nature

Declared that she could do nae mair.

Hers are the willing chains o' love,

By conquering beauty's sovereign law; And aye my Chloris' dearest charm, She says she loes me best of a'. Let others love the city,

And gaudy show at sunny noon; Gie me the lonely valley,

The dewy eve, and rising moon Fair beaming, and streaming,

Her silver light the boughs amang; While falling, recalling,

The amorous thrush concludes his sang There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove

By wimpling burn and leafy shaw, And hear my vows o' truth and love, And say thou loes me best of a'!

Saw ye my Philly?

TUNE-When she cam ben she bobbit. On, saw ye my dear, my Philly? Oh, saw ye my dear, my Philly? She's down i' the grove, she's wi' a new love She winna come hame to her Willie. What says she, my dearest, my Philly? What says she, my dearest, my Philly? She lets thee to wit that she has thee forgot And for ever disowns thee, her Willy. Oh, had I ne'er seen thee, my Philly! Oh, had I ne'er seen thee, my Philly! As light as the air, and fause as thou's fair, Thou's broken the heart o' thy Willy.

Bow Long and Dreary is the Light? (370)

TUNE-Cauld kail in Aberdeen.
How long and dreary is the night
When I am frae my dearie?

I restless lie frae e'en to morn,
Tho' I we're ne'er sae weary.

CHORUS.

For oh her lanely nights are lang,
And oh her dreams are eerie,
And oh! her widow'd heart is sair,
That's absent frae her dearie.
When I think on the lightsome days
I spent wi' thee, my dearie,
And now what seas between us roar,
How can I be but eerie ?
For oh! &c.

How slow ye move, ye heavy hours!
The joyless day, how dreary!

It was na sae ye glinted by,
When I was wi' my dearie.
For oh! &c.

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