The Modern Scottish Minstrel - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume Ii Part 8 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
La.s.s, AN' YE LO'E ME, TELL ME NOW.[59]
"Afore the muirc.o.c.k begin to craw, La.s.s, an' ye lo'e me, tell me now, The bonniest thing that ever ye saw, For I canna come every night to woo."
"The gouden broom is bonny to see, An' sae is the milk-white flower o' the haw, The daisy's wee freenge is sweet on the lea, But the bud of the rose is the bonniest of a'."
"Now, wae light on a' your flow'ry chat, La.s.s, an' ye lo'e me, tell me now; It 's no the thing that I would be at, An' I canna come every night to woo!
The lamb is bonny upon the brae, The leveret friskin' o'er the knowe, The bird is bonny upon the tree-- But which is the dearest of a' to you?"
"The thing that I lo'e best of a', La.s.s, an' ye lo'e me, tell me now; The dearest thing that ever I saw, Though I canna come every night to woo, Is the kindly smile that beams on me, Whenever a gentle hand I press, And the wily blink frae the dark-blue e'e Of a dear, dear la.s.sie that they ca' Bess."
"Aha! young man, but I cou'dna see, What I lo'e best I 'll tell you now, The compliment that ye sought frae me, Though ye canna come every night to woo; Yet I would rather hae frae you A kindly look, an' a word witha', Than a' the flowers o' the forest pu', Than a' the lads that ever I saw."
"Then, dear, dear Bessie, you shall be mine, Sin' a' the truth ye hae tauld me now, Our hearts an' fortunes we 'll entwine, An' I 'll aye come every night to woo; For O, I canna descrive to thee The feeling o' love's and nature's law, How dear this world appears to me Wi' Bessie, my ain for good an' for a'!"
[59] This song was suggested to the Shepherd by the words adapted to the formerly popular air, "La.s.s, gin ye lo'e me"--beginning, "I hae laid a herring in saut."
PULL AWAY, JOLLY BOYS!
Here we go upon the tide, Pull away, jolly boys!
With heaven for our guide, Pull away!
Here 's a weather-beaten tar, Britain's glory still his star, He has borne her thunders far, Pull away, jolly boys!
To your gallant men-of-war, Pull away!
We 've with Nelson plough'd the main, Pull away, jolly boys!
Now his signal flies again, Pull away!
Brave hearts, then let us go To drub the haughty foe, Who once again shall know, Pull away, gallant boys!
That our backs we never shew, Pull away!
We have fought and we have sped, Pull away, gallant boys!
Where the rolling wave was red, Pull away!
We 've stood many a mighty shock, Like the thunder-stricken oak, We 've been bent, but never broke, Pull away, gallant boys!
We ne'er brook'd a foreign yoke, Pull away!
Here we go upon the deep, Pull away, gallant boys!
O'er the ocean let us sweep, Pull away!
Round the earth our glory rings, At the thought my bosom springs, That whene'er our pennant swings, Pull away, gallant boys!
Of the ocean we 're the kings, Pull away!
O, SAW YE THIS SWEET BONNY La.s.sIE O' MINE?
O, saw ye this sweet bonny la.s.sie o' mine, Or saw ye the smile on her cheek sae divine; Or saw ye the kind love that speaks in her e'e?
Sure naebody e'er was so happy as me!
It 's no that she dances sae light on the green, It 's no the simplicity mark'd in her mien; But O, it 's the kind love that speaks in her e'e, That makes me as happy as happy can be.
To meet her alane 'mang the green leafy trees, When naebody kens, an' when naebody sees; To breathe out the soul of a saft melting kiss-- On earth here there 's naething is equal to this!
I have felt every bliss which the soul can enjoy, When friends circled round me, and nought to annoy; I have felt every joy that illumines the breast, When the full flowing bowl is most warmly caress'd:
But O, there 's a sweet and a heavenly charm In life's early day, when the bosom is warm; When soul meets wi' soul in a saft melting kiss-- On earth sure there 's naething is equal to this!
THE AULD HIGHLANDMAN.
Hersell pe auchty years and twa, Te twenty-tird o' May, man; She twell amang te Heelan hills, Ayont the reefer Spey, man.
Tat year tey foucht the Sherra-muir, She first peheld te licht, man; Tey shot my father in tat stoure-- A plaguit, vexin' spite, man.
I 've feucht in Scotland here at hame, In France and Shermanie, man; And cot tree tespurt pluddy oons, Beyond te 'Lantic sea, man.
But wae licht on te nasty cun, Tat ever she pe p.o.r.n, man; Phile koot klymore te tristle caird, Her leaves pe never torn, man.
Ae tay I shot, and shot, and shot, Phane'er it cam my turn, man; Put a' te force tat I could gie, Te powter wadna purn, man.
A filty loon cam wi' his cun, Resolvt to to me harm, man; And wi' te tirk upon her nose, Ke me a pluddy arm, man.
I flang my cun wi' a' my micht, And felt his nepour teit, man; Tan drew my swort, and at a straik Hewt aff te haf o 's heit, man.
Be vain to tell o' a' my tricks; My oons pe nae tiscrace, man; Ter no pe yin pehint my back, Ter a pefore my face, man.
AH, PEGGIE, SINCE THOU 'RT GANE AWAY![60]
Ah, Peggie! since thou 'rt gane away, An' left me here to languish, I canna fend anither day In sic regretfu' anguish.
My mind 's the aspen i' the vale, In ceaseless waving motion; 'Tis like a ship without a sail, On life's unstable ocean.
I downa bide to see the moon Blink owre the glen sae clearly; Aince on a bonnie face she shone-- A face that I lo'ed dearly!
An' when beside yon water clear, At e'en I 'm lanely roaming, I sigh an' think, if ane was here, How sweet wad fa' the gloaming!
When I think o' thy cheerfu' smile, Thy words sae free an' kindly, Thy pawkie e'e's bewitching wile, The unbidden tear will blind me.
The rose's deepest blushing hue Thy cheek could eithly borrow, But ae kiss o' thy cherry mou'
Was worth a year o' sorrow.
Oh! in the slippery paths of love, Let prudence aye direct thee; Let virtue every step approve, An' virtue will respect thee.