My breist can scarce conteen my heart, I My Nanie, O, my Nanie, Ó! The flower o' Nithisdale's Nanie, O! Tell not, thou star at grey day-licht, Nane ken o' me and Nanie, O! WE'RE A' NODDIN. TUNE-Nid noddin. O, WE'RE a' noddin, nid, nid, noddin, How's a' wi' ye, kimmer? and how do ye thrive? And we're a' noddin at our house at hame. Grannie nods i' the neuk, and fends as she may, 7 Vow! but she was bonnie; and vow! but she was braw, And she had rowth o' wooers ance, I'se warrant, great and sma'. And we're a' noddin, &c. Weary fa' Kate, that she winna nod too ; And when the bit bairnies wad e'en hae their share, Now, fareweel, kimmer, and weel may ye thrive; They sae the French is rinnin' for't, and we'll hae peace belyve. The bear's i' the brear, and the hay's i' the stack, And a' 'll be right wi' us, gin Jamie were come back; And we're a' noddin, &c. DUNCAN DAVISON. BURNS. TUNE-Duncan Davison. THERE was a lass, they ca'd her Meg, They ca'd him Duncan Davison : For wi' the roke she shored to knock, As ower the moor they lightly foor,* * Went. Upon the banks they eased their shanks, That Meg should be a bride the morn― We'll big a house, a wee wee house, And aye be welcome back again. MY NATIVE CALEDONIA. SAIR, sair was my heart, when I parted frae my Jean, And sair, sair I sigh'd, while the tears stood in my een; For my daddie is but poor, and my fortune is but sma' gars me leave my native Caledonia. Which When I think on days now gane, and how happy I hae been, While wandering wi' my dearie, where the primrose blaws unseen; I'm wae to leave my lassie, and my daddie's simple ha', Or the hills and healthfu' breeze o' Caledonia. But wherever I wander, still happy be my Jean ! been! Then, though ills on ills befa' me, for her I'll bear them a', Though aft I'll heave a sigh for Caledonia. But should riches e'er be mine, and my Jeanie still be true, Then blaw, ye favourin' breezes, till my native land I view; Then I'll kneel on Scotia's shore, while the heart-felt tear shall fa', And never leave my Jean and Caledonia. SHE SAYS SHE LO'ES ME BEST OF A'. BURNS. TUNE-Unagh's Lock. SAE flaxen were her ringlets, Twa laughing een o' bonnie blue. Wad mak a wretch forget his woe; Unto those rosy lips to grow! Like harmony her motion; Wad mak a saint forget the sky. Her faultless form and gracefu' air; Declared that she could do nae mair. And aye my Chloris' dearest charm, 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 her sang : There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove By wimpling burn and leafy shaw, And hear my vows o' truth and love, And say thou lo'es me best of a'? HALF A PUND O' TOW. FROM RECITATION. TUNE-The weary pund o' tow. I BOUGHT My maiden and my wife I think my wife will end her life I lookit to my yarn-nag, My heart grew wonder sair; And O, but it was howe! |