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CHORUS.—We are na fou, we're nae that How pleasant thy banks and green valleys
5 below, But just a drappie' in our ee; Where wild in the woodlands the primThe cock may craw, the day roses blow; may daw,
There oft, as mild Evening weeps over the And ay we'll taste the barley lea,
The sweet-scented birk8 shades my Mary
and me. Here are we met, three merry boys, Three merry boys, I trow, are we; 10 Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it An' monie a night we've merry been,
glides, And monie mae' we hope to be!
And winds by the cot where my Mary
resides; It is the moon, I ken her horn,
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet That's blinkin in the lift sae hie; She shines sae bright to wyleR us hame, 15 As gathering sweet flowerets she stems thy But, by my sooth, she'll wait a wee!
clear wave. Wha first shall rise to gang awa',
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy A cuckold, coward loun is he!
green braes, Wha first beside his chair shall fa', Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my He is the king amang us three!
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her FLOW GENTLY, SWEET AFTON dream.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy
BONIE DOON green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy Ye flowery banks o'bonie Doon, praise;
How can ye blume sae fair? My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring | How can ye chant, ye little birds, stream,
And I sae fu'o' care? Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird, s
That sings upon the bough; Thou stock-dove, whose echo resounds | Thou minds me o' the happy days, thro' the glen,
When my fause luve was true. Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird, Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming Thou sings beside thy mate; forbear,
For sae I sat, and sae I sang, I charge you disturb not my slumbering | And wist na o' my fate. fair.
Aft hae I roved by bonie Doon How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighboring To see the woodbine twine, hills,
And ilka bird sang o' its luve, Far marked with the courses of clear And sae did I o' mine.
winding rills; There daily I wander as noon rises high, Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my Frae aff its thorny tree; eye.
And my fause luver stawlo my rose 1 little drop.
But left the thorn wi' me. 7 hillsides. I 8 birch.
AE FOND KISS
But O! fell death's untimely frost,
That nipt my flower sae early! Ae' fond kiss, and then we sever;
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay, Ae farewell, and then forever!
That wraps my Highland Mary! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. O pale, pale now, those rosy lips, Who shall say that Fortune grieves him, 5 I aft hae kissed sae fondly! While the star of hope she leaves him? | And closed for ay the sparkling glance, Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me;
That dwalt on me sae kindly! Dark despair around benights me. And mouldering now in silent dust,
That heart that lo'ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom's core
15 Duncan Gray came here to woo, We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
(Ha, ha, the wooin o't!)
On blythe Yule night when we were fou, Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!
(Ha, ha, the wooin o't!) Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest! Maggie coost her head fu high, Thine be ilkajoy and treasure,
Looked asklent and unco skeigh, Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure! 20 Gart10 poor Duncan stand abeigh;11 Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ha, ha, the wooin o't! Ae farewell, alas, forever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee, Duncan fleeched, 12 and Duncan prayed; Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee!
(Ha, ha, the wooin o't!) Meg was deaf as Ailsa Craig,
(Ha, ha, the wooin o't!) HIGHLAND MARY
Duncan sighed baith out and in,
Grat13 his een14 baith bleer't15 and blin',
Ha, ha, the wooin o't!
Time and chance are but a tide,
(Ha ha, the wooin o't!) And there the langest tarry;
Slighted love is sair to bide, 18 For there I took the last fareweel,
(Ha, ha, the wooin o't!) O’ my sweet Highland Mary.
“Shall I, like a fool,” quoth he,
“For a haughty hizzie 19 die?
How rich the hawthorn's blossom, 10 Ha, ha, the wooin o't!
How it comes let doctors tell,
(Ha, ha, the wooin o't!) Flew o'er me and my dearie;
Meg grew sick as he grew hale, For dear to me as light and life,
(Ha, ha, the wooin o't!) Was my sweet Highland Mary.
Something in her bosom wrings,
For relief a sigh she brings; Wi' monie a vow and locked embrace And O! her een, they spak sic things! Our parting was fu' tender;
Ha, ha, the wooin o't! And, pledging aft to meet again,
full. 7 tossed. We tore oursels asunder;
16 leaping. 1 odc. 2 every bills. 'muddy. sbirch. I endure.
& sidewise. 12 wheedled.
9 very shy.
Duncan was a lad o grace,
(Ha, ha, the wooin o't!) Maggie's was a piteous case,
35 (Ha, ha, the wooin o't!) Duncan could na be her death, Swelling pity smoored' his wrath; Now they're crouse' and cantie baith; Ha, ha, the wooin o't!
I gie them a skelp’ as they're creeping
alang, Wi' a coge o guid swatso and an auld
I whiles clawl0 the elbow o' troublesome
Thought; But man is a soger, and life is a faught; My mirth and guid humor are coin in my
pouch, And my freedom's my lairdship nae
monarch daur touch..
From THE JOLLY BEGGARS
See! the smoking bowl before us,
Mark our jovial ragged ring;
Liberty's a glorious feast!
Churches built to please the priest.
A towmond'l o'trouble, should that be
my fa,'12 A night o'guid fellowship sowthers13 it a'; When at the blythe end of our journey at Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he
has past? Blind Chance, let her snapper14 and
stoyte15 on her way; Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jade
gae: Come ease or come travail, come pleasure
or pain, My warst word is: “Welcome, and wel
A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT
With the ready trick and fable,
Round we wander all the day; And at night, in barn or stable,
Hug our doxies on the hay. Does the train-attended carriage
Through the country lighter rove? Does the sober bed of marriage
Witness brighter scenes of love? Life is all a variorum,
We regard not how it goes; Let them cant about decorum
Who have characters to lose. Here's to budgets, bags, and wallets!
Here's to all our wandering train! Here's our ragged brats and callets!
One and all cry out, Amen!
Is there, for honest poverty,
That hings his head, an'a' that?
Our toils obscure, an'a' that;
The man's the gowd16 for a' that.
CONTENTED WI' LITTLE AND
CANTIE WI' MAIR
Contented wi' little, and cantie) wi' mair, Whene'er I forgather wi' Sorrow and
Care, 1 smothered. * cheerful
: happy * trulls. 6 cheerful.
* bowl. 10 scratch.
11 twelve-month. 18 makes it all up. I stumble. 16 gold.
#ale. 13 lot. 15 stagger 17 homespun grey.
WILLIAM BLAKE (1757–1827)
Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me: “Pipe a song about a Lamb!”
So I piped with merry cheer. “Piper, pipe that song again;"
So I piped: he wept to hear. “Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; • Sing thy songs of happy cheer!” So I sung the same again,
While he wept with joy to hear. “Piper, sit thee down and write
In a book, that all may read.” So he vanished from my sight;
And I plucked a hollow reed,
Then let us pray that come it may,
(As come it will for a' that)
It's coming yet, for a' that,
Shall brithers be for a' that. 40
O, WERT THOU IN THE CAULD
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee:
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
My mother bore me in the southern wild. / “Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease, But I am black, as if bereaved of light. And builds a heaven in hell's despair."
My mother taught me underneath a tree, 5
And, sitting down before the heat of day, She took me on her lap and kissèd me,
And, pointing to the east, began to say:
So sung a little clod of clay,
Trodden with the cattle's feet,
Warbled out these metres meet: