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The miller is crooket, the miller is crabbet,

The laird, tho' he's wealthy, is lyart and lean,
He's auld and he's cauld, and he's blin' and he's bala,
And he's no for a lassie o' merry eighteen.

O LADDIE, CAN YE LEAVE ME.
O laddie, can ye leave me! •

Alas, 'twill break this constant heart.
There's nought on earth can grieve me

Like this, that we must part.
Think on the tender vow you made

Beneath the secret birken shade,
And can ye now deceive me!

Is a your love but art?
COME HAME TO YOUR LINGALS.
Come hame to your lingals, ye ne'er-do-weel loon,
Ye're the king o' the dyvors, the tauk o' the town:
As often's the Munonday morning comes in,
Your wearifu' daedling again maun begin.
Gudewife, ye're a skillet, your tongue's just a bell,
To the peace o' gude fellows, it rings the death-knell,
But clack till ye deafen auld Barnaby's mill,

The souter shall aye hae his Munonday's yill.
BRAVE LEWIE ROY WAS THE FLOW'R, &c.
Brave Lewie Roy was the flow'r of our highlandmen,

Tall as the oak on the lofty Benvoirluch,
Fleet as the light-bounding tenants of Fillan-glen,

Dearer than life to his lovely Neen voiuch;
Lone was his biding, the cave of his hiding,

When forc'd to retire with our gallant Prince Charlie, Tho' manly and fearless, his bold heart was cheerless, Away from the lady he aye lov'd so dearly.

I'LL LAY ME ON THE WINTRY LEE.
I'll lay me on the wintry lee,

And sleep amidst the wind and weet,
And ere another's bride I be,

bring to me my winding sheet!

What can a hapless lassie do,

When ilka friend wad prove her foe,
Wad gar her break her dearest vow,

To wed wi' ane she canna' lo'e?

FAITHLESS NANNIE.
Full eighteen summers up life's brae,'

I speeded on fu' canny, 0,
Till sleeky love threw in my way,

Young, bonnie fair-bair'à Nannie 0.
I woo'd her soon, I wan her syne,

Our vows o' love were mony 0,
And, O what happy days were mine,

Wi' bonnie fair-hair'd Nannie O.

AND WAR YE AT DUNTOCHER BURN.

And war ye at Duntocher burn,

And did ye see them a', man!
And how's my wifie and the bairns?

I ha'e been lang awa, man.
This hedger wark's a weary trade,

It doesna suit ava, man,
Wi' lanely house, and lanely bed,

My comforts are but sma, man.
THOU CAULD GLOOMY FEBERWAR.
Thou cauld gloomy Feberwar,

O gin thou wert awa',
I'm wae to hear thy sughing winds,

I'm wae to see thy snaw,
For my bonnie brave young Highlaner,

The lad I lo'e sae dear,
Has vow'd to coine and see me,

In the spring o' the year.
O HOW COULD YE GANG SAE TO GRIEVE ME.

O how can ye gang, lassie, how can ye gang,

O how can ye gang sae to grieve me?
Wi' your beauty and your art, ye hae broken my heart,

For I never, never dreamt ye wad leave me!

MEG O' THE GLEN.
Meg o' the glen set aff to the fair,
Wir ruffles and ribbons, and meikle prepare,
Her heart it was heavy, her head it was licht,
For a' the lang way for a wooer, she sicht;
She spak' to the lads, but the lads slippet by,
She spak' to the lassies, the lassies were shy,
She thought she might do, but she didna weel ken,

For nane seem'd to care for poor Meg o' the glen. NOW MARION DRY YOUR TEARFU' E'E.

Now Marion dry your tearfu' e'e,

Gae break your rock in twa,
For soon your gallant sons ye'll see,

Returned in safety a'.
O wow, gudeman, my heart is fain!
And shall I see my bairns again?
A' seated round our ain hearthstane,

Nae mair to gang awa?
DAVIE TULLOCH'S BONNIE KATY.
Davie Tulloch's bonnie Katy,

Davie's bonnie blythsome Katy,
Tam the laird cam' down yestreen,

He socht her love, but gat her pity.
Wi' trembling grip he squeez'd her hand,

While his auld heart gaed pitty-patty,
Aye he thought his gear and land

Wad win the love o' bonnie Katy ;
Davie Tulloch's bonnie Katy,.

Davie's bonnie blythsome Katy,
Aye she smil'd as Davie wil'd,
Her smile was scorn, yet mixt wi' pity.

KISS’D YESTREEN.
The lassies a' leugh, and the carlin flate,
But Maggie was sitten fu owrie and blate,
The auld silly gawky, she coudna contain
How brawly she was kiss'd yestreen,

Kiss'd yestreen, kiss'd yestreen,
How brawly she was kiss'd yestreen,
She blether’d it round to her fae and her friend,
How brawly she was kiss'd yestreen.
HEY DONALD, HOW DONALD
Tho' simmer smiles on bank and brae,
And nature bids the heart be gay,
Yet a' the joys o' flow'ry May,

Wi' pleasure ne'er can move me.
Hey Donald, how Donald !
Think upon your vow, Donald
Mind the heather knowe, Donald,
Whare ye vow'd to love me.

KITTY O'CARROL.
Ye may boast of your charms, and be proud to be sure,
As if there was never such beauty before,
Bat, ere I got wedded to old Thady More,
I had dozens of wooers each night at my door,
With their, Och dear! O will you marry me,

Kitty O'Carrol, the joy of my soul ! JIY DAYS HA’E FLOWN WI' GLEESOME SPEED

My days hae flown wi' gleesome speed,

Grief ne'er sat heavy on my mind,
Sae happy in my rural reed,

I lilted every care behind ;
I've whiles been vext, and sair perplext,

When friends prov'd false, or beauty shy,
But, like gude John O'Badenyon,
I crun'd my lilt, and car'd na by.

THE BANKS OF SPEY.
Soroes of my childhood, your wanderer fails you,
Wing'd with rude storms, tho' the winter assails you,
Bleak and dreary as ye are, ye yet hae charms to cheer me
For liere amidst my native hills, my bonny lassie's near me;
*Tis sad to see the withered lea, the drumly flooded fountaill

, Tlie angry storm in awful form, that sweeps the moor and

mountain, Båt frae the surly swelling blast, dear lassie, I'll defend her, And frae the bonnie banks of Spey I never more shall wander.

THE

Harp of Renfrewshire.

GLEN-ORRA.

THE gale is high, the bark is light,

Swiftly it glides the dark sea over,
Why bear, ye waves, so base a freight,

Why waft, ye winds, a vagrant lover.
Wake, artless maid, thy dream is o'er,

No bright'ning hope can gild the morrow, Thy lover hails a distant shore,

Nor thinks of thee far in Glen-Orra.

The moon is up the maiden's gone,

Where flower and tree the night dews cover, To weep by mountain streamlet lone,

O'er perjur'd vows of faithless lover,

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