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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,

15 bree.

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!

20 lays;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring


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.




2 dawn.

a brew.
5 sky.



. more.
6 entice.

10 stole.





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!
I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy,

But still within my bosom's core
Naething could resist my Nancy; 10 Shall live my Highland Mary.
But to see her was to love her;
Love but her, and love forever.
Had we never loved sae kindly,

Had we never loved sae blindly,
Never met-or never parted-

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',
Ye banks, and braes, and streams around Spak o' lowpin 16 o'er a linn;17
The castle o' Montgomery,

Ha, ha, the wooin o't!
Green be your woods and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie! 4

Time and chance are but a tide,
There simmer first unfald her robes, 5

(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 sweetly bloomed the gay green birk," She may gae to-France for me!”

How rich the hawthorn's blossom, 10 Ha, ha, the wooin o't!
As underneath their fragrant shade
I clasped her to my bosom!

How it comes let doctors tell,
The golden hours on angel wings

(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.

20 |

10 made.
16 eyes.

Il aside.
15 bleared.

18 wept.

17 waterfall.

10 hussy.

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

Scottish sang.

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..


See! the smoking bowl before us,

Mark our jovial ragged ring;
Round and round take up the chorus,
And in raptures let us sing:

A fig for those by law protected!

Liberty's a glorious feast!
Courts for cowards were erected,

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

come again!”

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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?
The coward slave, we pass him by,
We dare be poor for a' that!
For a' that, an' a' that,

Our toils obscure, an'a' that;
The rank is but the guinea's stamp;

The man's the gowd16 for a' that.

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Contented wi' little, and cantie) wi' mair, Whene'er I forgather wi' Sorrow and

Care, 1 smothered. * cheerful

: happy * trulls. 6 cheerful.

& associate.

7 rap.

* bowl. 10 scratch.

11 twelve-month. 18 makes it all up. I stumble. 16 gold.

#ale. 13 lot. 15 stagger 17 homespun grey.

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WILLIAM BLAKE (1757–1827)

Piping down the valleys wild,

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)
That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth,
Shall bear the gree, an'a' that. 36
For a' that, an'a' that,

It's coming yet, for a' that,
That man to man, the world o'er,

Shall brithers be for a' that. 40

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Little Lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?

Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,

Little Lamb, I'll tell thee:
He is callèd by thy name,
For He calls Himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and He is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb,
We are called by His name.

Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!

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My mother bore me in the southern wild. / “Love seeketh not itself to please,
And I am black, but oh my soul is white!

Nor for itself hath any care,
White as an angel is the English child,

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,
But a pebble of the brook

Warbled out these metres meet:

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