O TELL ME HOW TO WOO THEE. MR GRAHAM OF GARTMORE. Ir doughty deeds my lady please, And he that bends not to thine eye, Shall rue it to his smart. Then tell me how to woo thee, love, If gay attire delight thine eye, I'll tend thy chamber-door all night, But if fond love thy heart can gain, Nae maiden lays her skaith to me; For you alone I ride the ring, For you I wear the blue; For you alone I strive to sing O tell me how to woo ! * * From the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, 1801. I'LL GAR OUR GUDEMAN TROW. TUNE-I'll gar our Gudeman trow. I'LL gar our gudeman trow I'll sell the ladle, If he winna buy to me A bonnie side-saddle, And round about the town; I'll gar our gudeman trow Twal bonnie gowd rings; And twa for ilka thoom; I'll gar our gudeman trow If he winna fee to me To bear my train up frae the dirt, And gie my gown room! * *First published in a little collection of old songs, entitled the BalladBook, which was printed for private distribution, at Edinburgh, in the year 1824. IT WAS A' FOR OUR RICHTFU KING. TUNE-It was a' for our richtfu' King. It was a' for our richtfu' king, Now a' is done that men can do, My love, and native land, fareweel; He turn'd him richt and round about And gae his bridle-reins a shake, With adieu for evermore, my love, The sodjer frae the war returns, When day is gane, and nicht is come, I think on him that's far awa, The lee-lang night, and weep, my dear, LADY KEITH'S LAMENT. [JACOBITE SONG.] TUNE--The Boyne Water. I MAY sit in my wee croo house, I At the rock and the reel to toil fu' dreary; may think on the day that's gane, And sigh and sab till I grow weary. I ne'er could brook, I ne'er could brook, That day our king comes ower the water. O gin I live to see the day, That I hae begg'd, and begg'd frae Heaven, I'll fling my rock and reel away, And dance and sing frae morn till even : For there is ane I winna name, That comes the beingin' byke to scatter; And I'll put on my bridal gown, That day our king comes ower the water. I hae seen the gude auld day, The day o' pride and chieftain's glory, When royal Stuarts bare the sway, And ne'er heard tell o' Whig nor Tory. Though lyart be my locks and grey, And eild has crook'd me down-what matter! I'll dance and sing ae other day, The day our king comes ower the water. A curse on dull and drawling Whig, My father was a gude lord's son, That day our king comes ower the water. I'LL AYE CA' IN BY YON TOUN. BURNS. TUNE-I'll gang nae mair to yon toun. I'LL aye ca' in by yon toun, And by yon garden green again; I'll aye ca' in by yon toun, And see my bonnie Jean again. There's 's nane shall ken, there's nane shall guess, What brings me back the gate again, But she, my fairest faithfu' lass; And stowlins we shall meet again. She'll wander by the aiken tree, I'll aye ca' in by yon toun, And by yon garden green again; I'll aye ca' in by yon toun, And see my bonnie Jean again. AYE WAUKING, O. THE ORIGINAL SONG, FROM RECITATION.] O I'm wet, wet, O I'm wet and weary! Yet fain wad I rise and rin, If I thought I would meet my deary. |