The Powers aboon will tent thee; Return to Caledonie ! That we may brag we hae a lass R. Burns CXC O my Luve's like a red, red rose As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And fare thee weel, my only Luve! R. Burns CXCI HIGHLAND MARY Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlic! N There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, But, Oh! fell Death's untimely frost, That wraps my Highland Mary! O pale, pale now, those rosy lips, And closed for aye the sparkling glance But still within my bosom's core AULD RÕBIN GRAY When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye à hame, And a' the warld to rest are gane, The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e, Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride; But saving a croun he had naething else beside: To make the croun a pund, young Jamie gaed to sea ; And the croun and the pund were baith for me. He hadna been awa' a week but only twa, When my father brak his arm, and the cow was stown awa; My mother she fell sick, and my Jamie at the seaAnd auld Robin Gray came a-courtin' me. My father couldna work, and my mother couldna spin ; I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna win; Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and wi' tears in his c'e Said, Jennie, for their sakes, O, marry me! My heart it said nay; I look'd for Jamie back ; But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a His ship it was a wrack-why didna Jamie dee? My father urgit sair : my mother didna speak ; But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to They gi'ed him my hand, but my heart was at the sea; I hadna been a wife a week but only four, O sair, sair did we greet, and muckle did we say ; I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin; Lady A. Lindsay CXCIII DUNCAN GRAY Duncan Gray cam here to woo, On blythe Yule night when we were fou, Duncan fleech'd, and Duncan pray'd; Grat his een baith bleer't and blin', Spak o' lowpin ower a linn ! Time and chance are but a tide, Slighted love is sair to bide; Shall I, like a fool, quoth he, How it comes let doctors tell, And O, her een, they spak sic things! Duncan was a lad o' grace; Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath; R. Burns CXCIV THE SAILOR'S WIFE And are ye sure the news is true? Reach down my cloak, I'll to the quay, For there's nae luck about the house, And gie to me my bigonet, For I maun tell the baillie's wife Rise, lass, and mak a clean fireside, Gie little Kate her button gown Their hose as white as snaw; It's a' to please my ain gudeman, There's twa fat hens upo' the coop Been fed this month and mair; Mak haste and thraw their necks about, That Colin weel may fare; And spread the table neat and clean, Gar ilka thing look braw, For wha can tell how Colin fared When he was far awa? |