O waly, waly, but love be bonnie Now Arthur's Seat shall be my bed, Since my true love has forsaken me. "Tis not the frost that freezes fell, Nor blawing snaw's inclemencie ; 'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry: But had I wist, before I wed,‡ That love had been sae ill to win, *Dress, arrange. Arthur's Seat is a hill near Edinburgh, forming part of the chase which surrounds the royal palace of Holyrood. St Anton's, or St Anthony's Well, is a small crystal spring proceeding from the side of Arthur's Seat, and taking its name from a hermitage half way up the hill, which it formerly supplied with water. Kissed," in orig. Oh, oh! if my young babe were born, And the green grass growing over me! * SAW ye my wee thing? saw ye my ain thing? Cross'd she the meadow yestreen at the gloamin? Her hair it is lint-white; her skin it is milk-white; I saw nae your wee thing, I saw nae your ain thing, Her hair it was lint-white; her skin it was milk-white; It was na my wee thing, it was na my ain thing, *This last line is substituted from an old nurse's copy, for one less delicate and pathetic, which has always hitherto been printed. The song appeared first in the Tea-Table Miscellany, marked with the signature Ž, indicating that the editor did not know its age. Her name it is Mary; she's frae Castle-Cary; Aft has she sat, when a bairn, on my knee : Fair as your face is, war't fifty times fairer, Young bragger, she ne'er would gie kisses to thee !— It was, then, your Mary; she's frae Castle-Cary; grew Sair gloom'd his dark brow-blood-red his cheek Defend ye, fause traitor! for loudly ye lie.- Awa wi' beguiling! cried the youth, smiling: Aff went the bonnet; the lint-white locks flee; The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shawing— Fair stood the loved maid wi' the dark-rolling ee! Is it my wee thing! is it mine ain thing! Is it my true love here that I see ! O Jamie, forgie me; your heart's constant to me; OH! TELL ME HOW FOR TO WOO. HECTOR MACNEIL. TUNE-Bonnie Dundee. OH tell me, oh tell me, bonnie young lassie, Say, maun I roose your cheeks like the morning? Lips like the roses fresh moisten'd wi' dew? Say, maun I roose your een's pawkie scorning? Oh tell me, oh tell me, how for to woo? Far hae I wander'd to see thee, dear lassie ! For ne'er loved I ony till ance I loved you; What care I for your wand'ring, young laddie! Ribbons, and pearlins, and breist-knots enew? A house that is cantie, wi' walth in't, my laddie? Without this ye never need try for to woo. I hae nae gowd to busk ye aye gaudy! I never loved Peggy, nor e'er brak my vow: I've wander'd, puir fule, for a face fause as bonnie! I little thocht this was the way for to woo! Hae na ye roosed my cheeks like the morning? Wi' health we'll hae plenty-I'll never gang gaudy: I ne'er wish'd for mair than a heart that is true. She hid her fair face in her true lover's bosom ; And aye, 'tween ilk kiss, she sighed to her Johnie― Oh laddie! oh laddie! weel weel can ye woo ! TUNE " Morag." O WHA is she that loes me, O sweet is she that loes me, O that's the queen o' womankind, If thou shalt meet a lassie In grace and beauty charming, Erewhile thy breast sae warming, If thou hadst heard her talking, |