Or were I in the wildest waste,

Of earth and air, of earth and air, The desart were a paradise,

If thou wert there, if thou wert there. Or were I monarch o' the globe,

Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign, The only jewel in my crown,

Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.

THE HIGHLAND LASSIE.

TUNE-THE DEUKS DANG O'ER MY DADDY.'

NAE gentle dames, tho' e'er sae fair,
Shall ever be my Muse's care;
Their titles a' are empty show;
Gie me my Highland lassie, O.

CHORUS.

Within the glen sae bushy, O,
Aboon the plain sae rushy, O,
I set me down wi' right good will,
To sing my Highland lassie, O.

Oh, were yon hills and valleys mine,
Yon palace and yon gardens fine!
The world then the love should know
I bear my Highland lassie, O.
Within the glen, &c.

But fickle fortune frowns on me,
And I maun cross the raging sea;
But while my crimson currents flow
I'll love my Highland lassie, O.

Within the glen, &c.

Altho' thro' foreign climes I range,

I know her heart will never change,

For her bosom burns with honour's glow,
My faithful Highland lassie, O.

Within the glen, &c.

For her I'll dare the billow's roar,
For her I'll trace a distant shore,
That Indian wealth may lustre throw
Around my Highland lassie, O.
Within the glen, &c.

She has my heart, she has my hand,
By sacred truth and honour's band!
Till the mortal stroke shall lay me low,
I'm thine, my Highland lassie, O.

Fareweel the glen sae bushy, O!
Fareweel the plain sae rushy, O!
To other lands I now must go,
To sing my Highland lassie, O!

JOCKEY'S TA'EN THE PARTING KISS.

JOCKEY'S ta'en the parting kiss,
O'er the mountains he is gane;
And with him is a' my bliss,

Nought but griefs with me remain.

Spare my luve, ye winds that blaw,
Plashy sleets and beating rain!
Spare my luve, thou feathery snaw,
Drifting o'er the frozen plain !

When the shades of evening creep
O'er the day's fair, gladsome ee,
Sound and safely may he sleep,
Sweetly blithe his waukening be!

He will think on her he loves,
Fondly he'll repeat her name;
For where'er he distant roves,
Jockey's heart is still at hame.

PEGGYS CHARMS.

My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form,
The frost of hermit age might warm ;
My Peggy's worth, my Peggy's mind,
Might charm the first of human kind.
I love my Peggy's angel air,
Her face so truly, heavenly fair,
Her native grace so void of art;
But I adore my Peggy's heart.

The lily's hue, the rose's dye,
The kindling lustre of an eye;
Who but owns their magic sway,
Who but knows they all decay!
The tender thrill, the pitying tear,
The generous purpose, nobly dear,
The gentle look that rage disarms,
These are all immortal charms.

UP IN THE MORNING EARLY.

CHORUS.

Up in the morning's no for me,

Up in the morning early;

When a' the hills are cover'd wi' snaw,
I'm sure it's winter fairly.

CAULD blaws the wind frae east to west,
The drift is driving sairly;

Sae loud and shrill's I hear the blast,
I'm sure it's winter fairly.

The birds sit chittering in the thorn,
A' day they fare but sparely;
And lang's the night frae e'en to morn,
I'm sure it's winter fairly.

Up in the morning, &c.

THO CRUEL FATE.

THO' cruel fate should bid us part,

As far's the pole and line; Her dear idea round my heart Should tenderly entwine.

Tho' mountains frown and deserts howl,

And oceans roar between ;

Yet, dearer than my deathless soul,

I still would love my Jean.

1 DREAM'D I LAY WHERE FLOWERS WERE SPRINGING.

I DREAM'D I lay where flowers were springing
Gaily in the sunny beam;

List'ning to the wild birds singing,

By a falling, crystal stream:

Straight the sky grew black and daring ;

Thro' the woods the whirlwinds rave;

Trees with aged arms were warring,
O'er the swelling, drumlie wave.

Such was my life's deceitful morning,
Such the pleasures I enjoy'd ;
But lang or noon, loud tempests storming
A' my flowery bliss destroy'd.

Tho' fickle fortune has deceiv'd me,

She promis'd fair, and perform'd but ill;
Of monie a joy and hope bereav'd me,
I bear a heart shall support me still.

BONIE ANN.

YE gallants bright, I red you right,
Beware o' bonie Ann:

Her comely face sae fu' o' grace,
Your heart she will trepan.

Her een sae bright, like stars by night,
Her skin is like the swan ;

Sae jimpy lac'd her genty waist,
That sweetly ye might span.