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Awa, Whigs, Awa

Awa, Whigs, Awa

TUNE-"Awa, Whigs, awa."

UR thrissles flourish'd fresh and fair,
And bonnie bloom'd our roses;

But Whigs came like a frost in June,
And wither'd a' our posies.

CHORUS.

Awa, Whigs, awa!

Awa, Whigs, awa!

Ye're but a pack o' traitor louns,
Ye'll do nae guid at a'.

Our ancient crown's fa'n in the dust-
Deil blin' them wi' the stour o't;

And write their names in his black beuk,
Wha gae the Whigs the power o't.
Awa, Whigs, etc.

Our sad decay in Church and State
Surpasses my descriving;

The Whigs came o'er us for a curse,
And we hae done with thriving.
Awa, Whigs, etc.

Grim vengeance lang has ta'en a nap,
But we may see him wauken;
Gude help the day when royal heads
Are hunted like a maukin!

Awa, Whigs, etc.

My Heart's in the Highlands

FAREWELL to the Highlands, farewell to the

The birthplace of valour, the country of worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,

The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

CHORUS.

My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here ; My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.

Farewell to the mountains high cover'd with snow; Farewell to the straths and green valleys below; Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods; Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods. My heart's in the Highlands, etc.

To Mary in Heaven

TUNE-"Miss Forbes's Farewell to Banff."

HOU lingering star, with less'ning ray,
That lost to greet the early morn,

Again thou usher'st in the day

My Mary from my soul was torn.

O Mary! dear departed shade!

Where is thy place of blissful rest?

See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?

That sacred hour can I forget?
Can I forget the hallow'd grove,
Where by the winding Ayr we met,
To live one day of parting love?

The Gowden Locks of Anna

Eternity cannot efface

Those records dear of transports past, Thy image at our last embrace

Ah! little thought we 'twas our last!

Ayr gurgling kiss'd his pebbled shore,
O'erhung with wild woods, thick'ning green;
The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar,
Twin'd am'rous round the raptur'd scene.
The flowers sprang wanton to be prest,
The birds sang love on ev'ry spray,
Till too, too soon, the glowing west
Proclaim'd the speed of winged day.

Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes,
And fondly broods with miser care!
Time but the impression deeper makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear.
My Mary, dear departed shade!

Where is thy place of blissful rest?

See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?

Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?

YES

The Gowden Locks of Anna

TUNE-"The Banks of Banna.”

ESTREEN I had a pint o' wine,
A place where body saw na;
Yestreen lay on this breast o' mine
The gowden locks of Anna.
The hungry Jew in wilderness,
Rejoicing o'er his manna,

Was naething to my hinny bliss
Upon the lips of Anna.

Ye monarchs, tak the east and west,
Frae Indus to Savannah !

Gie me within my straining grasp
The melting form of Anna.
There I'll despise imperial charms,
An Empress or Sultana,
While dying raptures in her arms,
I give and take with Anna!

Awa, thou flaunting god o' day!
Awa, thou pale Diana!

Ilk star gae hide thy twinkling ray
When I'm to meet my Anna.
Come, in thy raven plumage, night,
Sun, moon, and stars withdrawn a';
And bring an angel pen to write
My transports wi' my Anna!

POSTSCRIPT.

The Kirk and State may join, and tell
To do such things I mauna :
The Kirk and State may gae to Hell,
And I'll gae to my Anna.

She is the sunshine o' my e'e,

To live but her I canna;

Had I on earth but wishes three,
The first should be my Anna.

G

Guidwife, Count the Lawin

TUNE-"Guidwife, count the lawin."

ANE is the day, and mirk's the night,

But we'll ne'er stray for faut o' light,
For ale and brandy's stars and moon,
And bluid-red wine's the risin' sun.

There'll never be Peace

CHORUS.

Then, guidwife, count the lawin, the lawin, the lawin,

Then, guidwife, count the lawin, and bring a coggie mair.

There's wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And semple-folk maun fecht and fen',
But here we're a' in ae accord,
For ilka man that's drunk's a lord.
Then, guidwife, count, etc.

My coggie is a haly pool,

That heals the wounds o' care and dool;
And pleasure is a wanton trout,

An' ye drink it a' ye'll find him out.
Then, guidwife, count, etc.

There'll never be Peace till Jamie

comes Hame

Y yon castle wa', at the close of the day,

grey:

was

And as he was singing, the tears fast down came"There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.

"The Church is in ruins, the State is in jars,
Delusions, oppressions, and murderous wars ;
We dare na weel say't, but we ken wha's to blame---
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.

"My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword,
And now I greet round their green beds in the yerd;
It brak the sweet heart o' my faithfu' auld dame-
There'll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.