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O, wae to the wild-willow-bush i' the meadow. O, dule to "the bonnets o' bonny Dundee !"

MY PEGGY AN' I.

TUNE-Paddy Whack.

I HAE a wee wifie, an' I am her man,
My Peggy an' I, my Peggy an' I;
We waggle through life as weel as we can,
An' wha's sae happy as Peggy an' I?
We hae a wee lassy will keep up our line.
My Peggy an' I, my Peggy an' I,

I'm sure she is hers, an' I think she is mine,
An' wha's sae happy as Peggy an' I?

We aftentimes dandle her upon the knee,
My Peggy an' I, my Peggy an' I;
In ilka bit smile her dear mother I see,

An' wha's sae happy as Peggy an' I?
O lang may she live to our honour an' joy,
My Peggy an' I, my Peggy an' I,
An nae wicked fellow our darling decoy,
For wha's sae happy as Peggy an' I?

Though Peggy an' I hae little o' gear,

My Peggy an' I, my Peggy an' I;

We're healthy an' handy, an' never need fear,
For wha's sae happy as Peggy an' I?
We sleep a' the night, an' we ply a' the day,
My Peggy an' I, my Peggy an' I,

Baith vices an' follies lie out o' the way,
An' wha's sae happy as Peggy an' I?

Contented we are in the highest degree,
My Peggy an' I, my Peggy an' I;

An' gratefu' to him wha contentment can gi'e,
An' wha's sae happy as Peggy an' I?
Through life we will love, an' through life we
will pray,

My Peggy an' I, my Peggy an' I;

Then, sidie for sidie, we'll sleep i' the clay,
An' wha's sae happy as Peggy an' I?

THE MINSTREL BOY.

THE minstrel Boy to the glen is gone,
In its deepest dells you'll find him,
Where echoes sing to his music's tone,
And fairies listen behind him.

He sings of nature all in her prime,

Of sweets that around him hover,
Of mountain heath and moorland thyme,
And trifles that tell the lover.

How wildly sweet is the minstrel's lay,
Through cliffs and wild woods ringing,
For, ah! there is love to beacon his way,
And hope in the songs he's singing!
The bard may indite, and the minstrel sing,
And maidens may chorus it rarely;

But unless there be love in the heart within,
The ditty may charm but sparely.

THE GLOAMIN'.

AIR-Mary weep nae mair for me.

THE gloamin' frae the welkin high
Had chas'd the bonny gowden gleam;
The curtain'd east, in crimson dye,
Hung heavy o'er the tinted stream:
The wild rose, blushing on the brier,
Was set wi' draps o' shining dew,-
As big an' clear the bursting tear

That row'd i' Betty's een sae blue.

She saw the dear, the little cot,

Where fifteen years flew swiftly by, An' mourn'd her shame, an' hapless lot, That forc'd her frae that hame to lie. Though sweet an' mild the e'ening smil'd, Her heart was rent wi' anguish keen;

The mavis ceas'd his music wild,

An' wonder'd what her sobs could mean.

"It wasna kind to rob my mind

Of a' its peace for evermair;

To blot my name wi' burning shame,
An' mak my parents' hearts sae sair.
That hame how dare I enter now,

Ilk honour'd face in tears to see,
Where oft I kneel'd, to hear the vow
Was offer'd frae the heart for me!

"An' can I lo'e the treacherous man
Wha wrought this dear an' deadly ill?
Wha blur'd wi' clouds my early dawn?
Ah! waes my heart, I lo'e him still!
My heart abus'd! my love misus'd!
My wretched fate wi' tears I see!
But maist, I fear, my parents dear,
Gae mourning to the grave for me!"

LORD EGLINTON'S AULD MAN.

THE auld gudeman came hame at night,
Sair wearied wi' the way;

His looks were like an evening bright,
His hair was siller gray.

He spak' o' the days, lang past an' gane,
When life beat high in every vein;
When he was foremost on the plain
On every blythsome day.

"Then blythly blush'd the mornin' dawn, An' gay the gloamin' fell;

For sweet content led ay the van,

An' sooth'd the passions well;
Till wounded by a gilded dart,

When Jeanie's een subdued my heart,
I cherish'd ay the pleasing smart,-
Mair sweet than I can tell.

"We had our griefs, we had our joys,
In life's uneasy way;

We nourish'd virtuous girls an' boys,
That now are far away:

An' she, my best, my dearest part,
The sharer o' each joy an' smart,
Each wish and weakness o' my heart,
Lies moulderin' in the clay.

"The life o' man's a winter day:
Look back, 'tis gone as soon:
But yet his pleasures halve the way

An' fly before 'tis noon,

But conscious virtue still maintains

The honest heart through toils an' pains,

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