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There, at the last crow of the brown heather-cock, They pray'd for their prince, kneel’d, and slept on the
“ O tell me, auld carle, what will be the fate
YE BREEZES THAT SPRING
Has nothing to recommend it, save that it is set to an original air by Bishop, with very fine accompaniments.
Ye breezes that spring in some land unknown,
But O, thou breeze of the valley and hill !
The shepherd's proud boast over every degree, And the song of the maiden the dearest to me. Come laden with these, thou breeze of the hill! Andethe lay of the Minstrel shall hail thee still.
COME ROWE THE BOAT
Was written long ago to a boat-song that I heard in the Highlands, sung by the rowers. It is a short cross measure, -one of those to which it is impossible to compose good or flowing verses, but, when sung, is very sweet. It has since been set in modern style by Bishop. See Goulding and D'Almaine's Select Scottish Melodies.
Come rowe the boat, rowe the boat,
O’er the wild main;
To hear our bold strain.
Then rowe for her lover,
And mild blows the gale.
I see her a-roaming
Her Ronald to hail !
The deer of Ben-Aitley
She looks o'er the dale
Floats high on the gale.
But O, my dear Mary,
thee With aught in the valley,
The mountain, or tide ? All nature looks dreary
When thou art not near me,
But lovely and dearly
When thou’rt by my side.