ROSLIN CASTLE

Since heaven had dealt to me a routh, Straight to the kirk I led her,

There plighted her my faith and troth, And a young lady made her.

XVII

ROSLIN CASTLE

(RICHARD HEWITT)

'TWAS in that season of the year,
When all things gay and sweet appear,
That Colin with the morning ray,
Arose and sung his rural lay.

Of Nanny's charms the shepherd sung,
The hills and dales with Nanny rung,
While Roslin Castle heard the swain,
And echoed back the cheerful strain.

Awake sweet muse! the breathing spring
With rapture warms; awake and sing!
Awake and join the vocal throng,
Who hail the morning with a song.

To Nanny raise the cheerful lay,
O! bid her haste and come away,
In sweeter smiles herself adorn,
And add new graces to the morn.

ROSLIN CASTLE

O hark, my love, on ev'ry spray
Each feather'd warbler tunes his lay:
'Tis beauty fires the ravish'd throng,
And love inspires the melting song.
Then let my raptur'd notes arise,
For beauty darts from Nanny's eyes,
And love my rising bosom warms,
And fills my soul with sweet alarms.

O come, my love! thy Colin's lay,
With rapture calls, O come away,

Come while the muse this wreath shall

twine

Around that modest brow of thine.

O hither haste, and with thee bring
That beauty blooming like the spring,
Those graces that divinely shine

And charm this ravish'd breast of mine!

O GIN MY LOVE WERE YON RED ROSE

XVIII

O GIN MY LOVE WERE YON RED

ROSE

(From Herd's MS.)

O GIN my love were yon red rose,
That grows upon the castle wa',
And I mysel' a drap of dew,

Down on that red rose I would fa'.

O my love's bonnie, bonnie, bonnie;
My love's bonnie and fair to see:
Whene'er I look on her well-far'd face,

She looks and smiles again to me.

O gin my love were a pickle of wheat,
And growing upon yon lily lee,

And I mysel' a bonnie wee bird,

Awa' wi' that pickle o' wheat I wad flee.

O my love's bonnie, &c.

O gin my love were a coffer o' gowd,
And I the keeper of the key,

I wad open the kist whene'er I list,
And in that coffer I wad be.

O my love's bonnie, &c.

GIN YE MEET A BONNIE LASSIE

XIX

GIN YE MEET A BONNIE LASSIE

(ALLAN RAMSAY)

GIN ye meet a bonnie lassie,

Gi'e her a kiss and let her gae;
But if ye meet a dirty hizzie,
Fye, gar rub her ower wi' strae.
Be sure ye dinna quit the grip
Of ilka joy when ye are young,
Before auld age your vitals nip,

And lay ye twa-fauld ower a rung.

Sweet youth's a blythe and heartsome time:

Then, lads and lasses, while it's May,
Gae pou the gowan in its prime,
Before it wither and decay.

Watch the saft minutes o' delight,

When Jenny speaks beneath her breath, And kisses, layin' a' the wyte

On you if she kep ony skaith.

Haith, ye're ill-bred, she'll smilin' say,
Ye'll worry me, ye greedy rook;
Syne frae your arms she'll rin away,
And hide hersel' in some dark neuk.

LOCHABER NO MORE

Her lauch will lead ye to the place,
Where lies the happiness ye want;
And plainly tell ye to your face,
Nineteen nay-says are hauf a grant.

Now to her heavin' bosom cling,
And sweitly tuilyie for a kiss;
Frae her fair finger whup a ring,
As taiken o' a future bliss.
These benisons, I'm very sure,

Are of kind heaven's indulgent grant;
Then, surly carles, wheesht, forbear
To plague us wi' your whinin' cant!

XX

LOCHABER NO MORE

(ALLAN RAMSAY)

FAREWELL to Lochaber, farewell to my Jean, Where heartsome wi' thee I ha'e mony a day

been;

To Lochaber no more, to Lochaber no more, We'll maybe return to Lochaber no more. These tears that I shed, they're a' for my dear, And no for the dangers attending on war, Though borne on rough seas to a far bloody shore,

Maybe to return to Lochaber no more.