THE HILLS OF THE HIGHLANDS

Her eyes outshine the star of night,
Her cheeks the morning's rosy hue;
And pure as flower in summer shade,
Low bending in the pearly dew:
Nor flower sae fair and lovely pure,
Shall fate's dark wintry winds assail;
As angel-smile she aye will be

Dear to the bowers of Ormadale.

Let fortune soothe the heart of care,
And wealth to all its votaries give;
Be mine the rosy smile of love,

And in its blissful arms to live
I would resign fair India's wealth,
And sweet Arabia's spicy gale,
For balmy eve and Scotian bower,
With thee, loved maid of Ormadale.

CXVI

THE HILLS OF THE HIGHLANDS

(WILLIAM NICHOLSON)

WILL ye go to the Highlan's, my Mary,
And visit our haughs and our glens?
There's beauty 'mang hills o' the Highlan's,
That lass i' th' Lowlands ne'er kens.

BLINK OVER THE BURN, MY SWEET BETTY

A heart that once had loved like mine,
No second love can know!

A heart that once has throbb'd with thine.
Must other love forego.

CXII

BLINK OVER THE BURN, MY SWEET BETTY

(ROBERT ALLAN)

BLINK over the burn, my sweet Betty,
Blink over the burn, love, to me;
O, long ha'e I look'd, my dear Betty,
To get but a blink o' thine e'e.
The birds are a' sporting around us,
And sweetly they sing on the tree;
But the voice o' my bonnie sweet Betty,
I trow, is far dearer to me.

The ringlets, my lovely young Betty,

That wave o'er thy bonnie e'ebree,
I'll twine wi' the flowers o' the mountain,
That blossom sae sweetly, like thee.
Then come o'er the burn, my sweet Betty,
Come over the burn, love, to me;

O, sweet is the bliss, my dear Betty,
To live in the blink o' thine e'e.

ELLEN

CXIII

ELLEN

(WILLIAM GILLESPIE)

THE moon shone in fits,

And the tempest was roaring,

The Storm Spirit shriek'd,

And the fierce rain was pouring;

Alone in her chamber,

Fair Ellen sat sighing,

The tapers burn'd dim,

And the embers were dying.

"The drawbridge is down,

That spans the wide river;

Can tempest divide,

Whom death cannot sever?

Unclosed is the gate,

And those arms long to fold thee,

'Tis midnight, my love;

O say, what can hold thee?"

But scarce flew her words,
When the bridge reft asunder,
The horseman was crossing,
'Mid lightning and thunder,

ELLEN

And loud was the yell,

As he plunged in the billow, That maid knew it well,

As she sprung from her pillow.

She scream'd o'er the wall,

But no help was beside her; And thrice to her view

Rose the horse and his rider.

She gazed at the moon,

But the dark cloud pass'd over; She plunged in the stream,

And she sank to her lover.

Say, what is that flame,

O'er the midnight deep beaming? And whose are those forms,

In the wan moonlight gleaming? That flame gilds the wave, Which their pale corses cover; And those forms are the ghosts Of the maid and her lover.

MY LASSIE WI' THE SUNNY LOCKS

CXIV

MY LASSIE WI' THE SUNNY LOCKS

(ALLAN CUNNINGHAM)

My lassie wi' the sunny locks
Dwells in a moorlan' ha';
Oh! the flower of the wilderness
Blooms fairest flower of a',
When there's nought save the dew
In its bosom to fa'.

My love's the balmy seed

Of the garden's sweetest flower,
Nursed up in fragrant beauty

By the golden sun and shower;
And nane save the wild birds
Ken o' its power.

Oh! lightsome are her looks

And as sweet as sweet can be,

She is the light of morning

In ilka bodie's ee;

And a drap o' dearest blood

In this bosom to me.