Auld Lang Sque. SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days o' lang syne? CHORUS. For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, We twa hae run about the braes, And pu'd the gowans fine; But we've wandered mony a weary foot, Sin auld lang syne. We twa hae paidl't i' the burn, Frae mornin' sun till dine; But seas between us braid hae roar'd, And here's a hand, my trusty fiere, And we'll tak a right guid willie-waught, And surely ye'll be your pint stoup, And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet Where are the Sans? TUNE-Saw ye my father? WHERE are the joys I have met in the morning, That danc'd to the lark's early song? Where is the peace that awaited my wand'ring, At evening the wild woods among? No more a-winding the course of yon river, And marking sweet flow'rets so fair: DELUDED Swain, the pleasure The fickle Fair can give thee, Is but a fairy treasure Thy hopes will soon deceive thee. The billows on the ocean, The breezes idly roaming, The clouds' uncertain motion, They are but types of woman. To doat upon a feature? Good claret set before thee: No more I trace the light footsteps of Hold on till thou art mellow, pleasure, But sorrow and sad sighing care. Is it that summer's forsaken our vallies, And grim surly winter is near? No, no! the bees humming round the gay roses, Proclaim it the pride of the year. Fain would I hide what I fear to discover, Yet long, long too well have I known, All that has caused this wreck in my bosom, Is Jenny, fair Jenny alone. Time cannot aid me, my griefs are immortal, Nor hope dare a comfort bestow : Come then, enamour'd and fond of my anguish, Enjoyment I'll seek in my woe. And then to bed in glory. Thine Sam, my Faithful Fair. To thy bosom lay my heart, Take away these rosy lips, Rich with balmy treasure: Turn away thine eyes of love, Lest I die with pleasure. What is life when wanting love? Night without a morning: Love's the cloudless summer sun, Nature gay adorning. My Sponse, Nancy. TUNE-My Jo Janet. "HUSBAND, husband, cease your strife, Nor longer idly rave, sir; Tho' I am your wedded wife, Yet I am not your slave, sir." "One of two must still obey, Is it man, or woman, say, "Sad will I be, so bereft, My poor heart then break it must, Think, think how you will bear it." "Well, sir, from the silent dead, Still I'll try to daunt you; The Banks of Crre. HERE is the glen, and here the bower, Oh, what can stay my lovely maid? 'Tis not Maria's whispering call; It is Maria's voice I hear! So calls the woodlark in the grove, His little faithful mate to cheer! At once 'tis music and 'tis love. And art thou come ?—and art thou true? Oh welcome, dear to love and me And let us all our vows renew, Along the flowery banks of Cree. On the Seas and Far Away. TUNE-O'er the hills, &c. How can my poor heart be glad, When absent from my sailor lad ? How can I the thought forego, He's on the seas to meet the foe? Let me wander, let me rove, Still my heart is with my love; Nightly dreams and thoughts by day Are with him that's far away. CHORUS. On the seas and far away, On stormy seas and far away; Nightly dreams and thoughts by day Are aye with him that's far away. When in summer's noon I faint, As weary flocks around me pant, Haply in the scorching sun My sailor's thund'ring at his gun; Bullets spare my only joy! Bullets, spare my darling boy! Fate, do with me what you may, Spare but him that's far away! At the starless midnight hour, When winter rules with boundless power; As the storms the forest tear, And thunders rend the howling air, Surging on the rocky shore, All I can-I weep weep and pray, For his weal that's far away. Peace, thy olive wand extend, And bid wild war his ravage end, Then may Heaven with prosperous gales, Ca' the Vomes to the Knowes. CHORUS. CA' the yowes to the knowes, Hark the mavis' evening sang My bonnie dearie. We'll gae down by Clouden side To the moon sae clearly, Yonder Clouden's silent towers, Where at moonshine, midnight hours, O'er the dewy bending flowers, Fairies dance sae cheery. Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear; Fair and lovely as thou art, While waters wimple to the sea; She says she Locs me Best of A'. SAE flaxen were her ringlets, Twa laughing een o' bonnie blue. Would make a wretch forget his woe: What pleasure, what treasure, Unto these rosy lips to grow: Such was my Chloris' bonnie face, When first her bonnie face I saw, And aye my Chloris' dearest charm, She says she loes me best of a'. Like harmony her motion; Her pretty ancle is a spy Betraying fair proportion, Wad make a saint forget the sky. Sae warming, sae charming, Her faultless form and graceful air; Ilk feature-auld nature Declared that she could do nae mair. Hers are the willing chains o' love, By conquering beauty's sovereign law; And aye my Chloris' dearest charm, She says she loes me best of a'. Let others love the city, And gaudy show at sunny noon; Gie me the lonely valley, The dewy eve, and rising moon Fair beaming, and streaming, Her silver light the boughs amang; While falling, recalling, The amorous thrush concludes his sang There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove By wimpling burn and leafy shaw, And hear my vows o' truth and love, And say thou loes me best of a'! Saw ye my Philly? TUNE-When she cam ben she bobbit. On, saw ye my dear, my Philly? Oh, saw ye my dear, my Philly? She's down i' the grove, she's wi' a new love She winna come hame to her Willie. What says she, my dearest, my Philly? What says she, my dearest, my Philly? She lets thee to wit that she has thee forgot And for ever disowns thee, her Willy. Oh, had I ne'er seen thee, my Philly! Oh, had I ne'er seen thee, my Philly! As light as the air, and fause as thou's fair, Thou's broken the heart o' thy Willy. Bow Long and Dreary is the Light? (370) TUNE-Cauld kail in Aberdeen. I restless lie frae e'en to morn, CHORUS. For oh her lanely nights are lang, How slow ye move, ye heavy hours! It was na sae ye glinted by, |