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My Highland Lassie

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, etc.

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, etc.

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, etc.

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, etc.

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!

A

The Farewell to the Brethren of St.
James's Lodge, Tarbolton

TUNE-"Guid night, and joy be wi you a'!"

DIEU! a heart-warm, fond adieu!
Dear brothers of the mystic tie!
Ye favour'd, ye enlighten'd few,
Companions of my social joy!
Tho' I to foreign lands must hie,
Pursuing Fortune's slidd'ry ba',
With melting heart, and brimful e'e,
I'll mind you still, tho' far awa.
Oft have I met your social band,

And spent the cheerful, festive night;
Oft, honour'd with supreme command,
Presided o'er the sons of light:
And by that hieroglyphic bright,

Which none but craftsmen ever saw!
Strong mem'ry on my heart shall write
Those happy scenes when far awa!

May freedom, harmony, and love,
Unite you in the grand design,
Beneath th' Omniscient eye above,
The glorious Architect Divine !
That you may keep th' unerring line,
Still rising by the plummet's law,
Till Order bright completely shine,
Shall be my pray'r when far awa!

And you, farewell! whose merits claim,
Justly, that highest badge to wear!
Heav'n bless your honour'd, noble name,
To Masonry and Scotia dear!
A last request permit me here,

When yearly ye assemble a',
One round, I ask it with a tear,

To him, the Bard that's far awa.

N

Farewell to Eliza

The Bonnie Blink o' Mary's E'e

'OW bank an' brae are claith'd in green, An' scatter'd cowslips sweetly spring, By Girvan's fairy-haunted stream

The birdies flit on wanton wing.
To Cassillis' banks when e'ening fa's,
There wi' my Mary let me flee,
There catch her ilka glance o' love,
The bonnie blink o' Mary's e'e!

The chield wha boasts o' warld's wealth
Is aften laird o' meikle care;

But Mary she is a' my ain,

Ah, Fortune canna gie me mair!
Then let me range by Cassillis' banks
Wi' her, the lassie dear to me,
And catch her ilka glance o' love,
The bonnie blink o' Mary's e'e!

Farewell to Eliza

TUNE-"Gilderoy."

'ROM thee, Eliza, I must go,

FRO

And from my native shore;

The cruel fates between us throw
A boundless ocean's roar:
But boundless oceans, roaring wide,
Between my Love and me,

They never, never can divide
My heart and soul from thee.

Farewell, farewell, Eliza dear,
The maid that I adore !
A boding voice is in mine ear,
We part to meet no more!

But the last throb that leaves my heart,

While death stands victor by,

That throb, Eliza, is thy part,
And thine that latest sigh!

The Lass o' Ballochmyle

TUNE-"Ettrick Banks."

WAS even,

'TWAS

the dewy fields were green,
On every blade the pearls hang;
The zephyrs wanton'd round the bean,
And bore its fragrant sweets alang:
In every glen the mavis sang,

All Nature listening seem'd the while :
Except where greenwood echoes rang,
Amang the braes o' Ballochmyle.

With careless step I onward stray'd,
My heart rejoic'd in Nature's joy,
When musing in a lonely glade,

A maiden fair I chanc'd to spy;
Her look was like the morning's eye,
Her air like Nature's vernal smile,
Perfection whisper'd passing by,

"Behold the lass o' Ballochmyle!"

Fair is the morn in flowery May,
And sweet is night in Autumn mild,
When roving thro' the garden gay,
Or wandering in a lonely wild:
But Woman, Nature's darling child!
There all her charms she does compile;

Ev'n there her other works are foil'd
By the bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle.

The Author's Farewell

O, had she been a country maid,
And I the happy country swain,
Tho' shelter'd in the lowest shed

That ever rose on Scotland's plain,
Thro' weary winter's wind and rain,
With joy, with rapture, I would toil;
And nightly to my bosom strain
The bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle!

Then pride might climb the slipp'ry steep,
Where fame and honours lofty shine;
And thirst of gold might tempt the deep,
Or downward seek the Indian mine;
Give me the cot below the pine,

To tend the flocks or till the soil,

And every day have joys divine,
With the bonnie lass o' Ballochmyle.

The Author's Farewell to his
Native Land

TUNE-"Roslin Castle."

'HE gloomy night is gath'ring fast,

THE

Loud roars the wild inconstant blast,

Yon murky cloud is foul with rain,

I see it driving o'er the plain;
The hunter now has left the moor,
The scatter'd coveys meet secure,
While here I wander, prest with care,
Along the lonely banks of Ayr.

The Autumn mourns her rip'ning corn
By early Winter's ravage torn;
Across her placid, azure sky,
She sees the scowling tempest fly:

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