212 How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighboring hills, 10 Far marked with the courses of clear winding rills; There daily I wander as noon rises high, My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye. How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below, Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow; 15 There oft as mild evening weeps over the lea, The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me. Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, And winds by the cot where my Mary resides; How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave, 20 As gathering sweet flowerets she stems thy clear wave. Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, 5 HIGHLAND MARY. TUNE-Katharine Ogie. YE banks, and braes, and streams around Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; 16. birk, birch. 4. drumlie, muddy. 5. simmer, summer; unfauld, unfold. For there I took the last fareweel How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk, 10 How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasped her to my bosom! The golden hours, on angel wings, Flew o'er me and my dearie; 15 For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' monie a vow, and locked embrace, But, oh! fell death's untimely frost, Now green 's the sod, and cauld's the clay, 25 Oh, pale, pale now, those rosy lips 30 And mouldering now in silent dust Shall live my Highland Mary. 214 TO MARY IN HEAVEN. THOU ling'ring star, with less'ning ray, My Mary from my soul was torn. Where is thy place of blissful rest? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast? That sacred hour can I forget, 10 Can I forget the hallowed grove, Those records dear of transports past, 20 Ah! little thought we 't was our last! Ayr, gurgling, kissed his pebbled shore, The fragrant birch and hawthorn hoar Twined am'rous round the raptured scene; The birds sang love on every spray - 25 Still o'er these scenes my mem'ry wakes, 30 My Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast? I LOVE MY JEAN. TUNE- Miss Admiral Gordon's Strathspey. I Love My Jean bears witness to Burns's love for his wife, Jean Armour. "This song," he wrote, "I composed out of compliment to Mrs. Burns. N. B. It was in the honeymoon." OF a' the airts the wind can blaw I dearly like the west, For there the bonny lassie lives, 5 There's wild woods grow, and rivers row, 10 But day and night my fancy's flight I see her in the dewy flowers, I hear her sweet and fair; I see her in the tunefu' birds, There's not a bonny flower that springs 15 There's not a bonny bird that sings, 1. airts the wind can blaw, quarters from which the wind can blow. 5. row, roll. 14. shaw, wooded dell. 216 OH, WERT THOU IN THE CAULD BLAST. Miss Jessy Lewars was a young lady who helped Mrs. Burns to nurse the poet in his last illness. Of the origin of Oh, Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast, she has told that one morning Burns called upon her, and said if she would play him any tune of which she was fond, he would write words for her to sing to it. She played a melody, and as soon as Burns had it well in his mind, he sat down and wrote this song in a few minutes. Он, wert thou in the cauld blast On yonder lea, on yonder lea, I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee! 10 Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Or were I in the wildest waste, Of earth and air, of earth and air, If thou wert there, if thou wert there! Or were I monarch o' the globe, Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign, 15 The only jewel in my crown Wad be my queen, wad be my queen! |