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Thy sharpest dart has pierc'd my heart,

An' ta'en frae me my Jeany, 0.

I'll nae mair strive, while I'm alive,

For aught but' missin' slavery, 0;
This world's a stage, a pilgrimage,

A mass o' lust an' knavery, 0 :
If fickle fame but save my name,

Anfrae oblivion screen me, 0;
Then farewell fortune, farewell love,

An' farewell bonny Jeany, 0!

HERE, FIX'D BY CHOICE.

HERE, fix'd by choice, too long I staid

Beside the lovely Flora ;
Too fond to see the charming maid

The cause of all my sorrow.
The rising sun each morning saw

My passion fast augmenting, Till she with Campbell cross'd the main,

And left her love lamenting.

No curses on her head I'll crave;

My blessing still attend her: Whene'er I offer up my vows,

My dear I'll ay remember.

Though mountains rise, and rivers roll,

And oceans rage between us,
If death me spare, I'll search for her

Through all the Carolinas.

Nor absence, time, nor balmy rest,

Nor grief, nor tears, can ease me; I feel the time approaching fast

When a clay-cold bed will please me. Then rest my head upon yon hill,

Where blows the blooming heather, There first at Flora's feet I fell :

There oft we sat together!

How happy would my charmer seem !

How sorry when I left her!
I would not then have chang'd my seat

With him that sway'd the sceptre.
My prospect glow'd with fairest flowers,

From bliss no bounds to bar me: Now dismal shades and dreary shores

With rueful murmurs scare me.

There was a time, no more I'll see,

I spent in mirth and ranging; There was time when I was gay,

But times are always changing. The times shall change, and moons shall wane,

Yet I in love still languish;

My tender heárt must break in twain,

Since nought can ease mine anguish.

I'M GANE A' WRANG, JAMIE.

TUNE-Upan' waur them a', Willie.

“O WHAT maks you sae dowie, lassie ?

What maks you sae cheerless ? For wit, an' fun, an harmless glee,

My Peggy ay was peerless. Ye're gane a' wrang, Peggy, Ye're gane a' wrang, Peggy, Ye've lost a frien', or catch'd the spleen,

Or for some lad thought lang, Peggy."

“Yes, I hae catch'd a weary spleen

Has banish'd a' my mirth, Jamie ;
An' I hae lost the dearest frien'

That e'er I ken'd on earth, Jamie.
I'm gane a' wrang, Jamie,
I'm gane a' wrang, Jamie,
For I've lien in an unco bed,

Ayont an unco man, Jamie."

" Ah, waes my heart for what ye've done !

Ye canna hide it lang, Peggy;

How could ye use your love sae ill ?

Ye have done a' wrang, Peggy.
Ye've gane a' wrang, Peggy,
Ye've gane a' wrang, Peggy,
Ye promis'd aft to marry me,

An' ay ere it was lang, Peggy.

“I'm unco wae to tak my leave;

But that's the thing maun be, Peggy I'll never like a lass sae weel,

Sin' I hae done wi' thee, Peggy. Ye're gane a' wrang, Peggy,

a' wrang, Peggy, Ye promis’d aft to marry me,

An' ay ere it was lang, Peggy."

Ye're gane

“I weel deserve my hapless lot,

Ye war sae kind an' true, Jamie ;
My broken heart will ne'er forget

How I've misused you, Jamie.
I'm gane a' wrang, Jamie,
I'm gane a' wrang, Jamie,
For I've lien in an unco bed,

Ayont an unco man, Jamie.'

“My dear, I ken ye've done amiss ;

But blame was far frae thee, Peggy : I'll tell you what will gar you blush

The unco man was me Peggy.

We've done a' wrang, Peggy,
We've done a' wrang, Peggy ;
We'll do the best that now remains, 4

An' wed ere it be lang, Peggy.

THE HAY MAKERS.

TUNE-Coming through the Rye.

• My lassie, how I'm charm'd wi' you

'Tis needless now to tell ; Rut a' the flowers the meadow through,

Ye're sweetest ay yoursel' : I canna sleep a wink by night,

Nor think a thought by day ; Your image smiles afore my sight

Whate'er I do or say."

“Fye, Jamie ! dinna act the part

Ye'll ever blush to own;
Or try to wile my youthfu' heart

Frae reason's sober throne :
Sic visions I can ne'er approve

Nor ony wakin' dream; Then trust sic fiery furious love

I'd rather hae esteem.".

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