TUNE- My lodging is on the cold ground.
1 My Chloris, mark how green the groves,
The primrose banks how fair;
The balmy gales awake the flowers,
And wave thy flaxen hair.
2 The laverock shuns the palace gay,
And o'er the cottage sings :
For Nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
To shepherds as to kings.
3 Let minstrels sweep the skilfu' string
In lordly lighted ha':
The shepherd stops his simple reed,
Blithe, in the birken shaw.
4 The princely revel may survey
Our rustic dance wi' scorn;
But are their hearts as light as ours
Beneath the milk-white thorn?
5 The shepherd, in the flowery glen,
In shepherd's phrase will woo:
The courtier tells a finer tale,
But is his heart as true?
6 These wild-wood flowers I've pu'd, to deck That spotless breast o' thine:
The courtier's gems may witness love-
But 'tis na love like mine.
ALTERED FROM AN OLD ENGLISH ONE.
1 It was the charming month of May,
When all the flowers were fresh and gay,
One morning, by the break of day,
The youthful, charming Chloe ;
From peaceful slumber she arose,
Girt on her mantle and her hose,
And o'er the flowery mead she goes,
The youthful, charming Chloe.
Lovely was she by the dawn,
Youthful Chloe, charming Chloe,
Tripping o'er the pearly lawn,
The youthful, charming Chloe.
2 The feather'd people, you might see
Perch'd all around on every tree,
In notes of sweetest melody,
They hail the charming Chloe;
Till, painting gay the eastern skies,
The glorious sun began to rise,
Out-rivall'd by the radiant eyes
Of youthful, charming Chloe.
LASSIE WI' THE LINT-WHITE LOCKS.
TUNE Rothiemurchie's Rant.
LASSIE wi' the lint-white locks,
Bonnie lassie, artless lassie,
Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks,
Wilt thou be my dearie O?
1 Now Nature cleeds the flowery lea,
And a' is young and sweet like thee;
Oh, wilt thou share its joys wi' me,
And say thou 'lt be my dearie O?
2 And when the welcome simmer shower
Has cheer'd ilk drooping little flower,
We'll to the breathing woodbine bower
At sultry noon, my dearie O!
3 When Cynthia lights, wi' silver ray,
The weary shearer's hameward way;
Through yellow waving fields we'll stray,
And talk o' love, my dearie O!
4 And when the howling wintry blast
Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest,
Enclasped to my faithful breast,
I'll comfort thee, my dearie O!
TUNE-Nancy's to the Greenwood,' &c.
1 FAREWELL, thou stream that winding flows Around Eliza's dwelling!
O Memory! spare the cruel throes
Within my bosom swelling:
Condemn'd to drag a hopeless chain,
And yet in secret languish,
To feel a fire in every vein,
Nor dare disclose my anguish.
2 Love's veriest wretch, unseen, unknown,
I fain my griefs would cover:
The bursting sigh, the unweeting groan,
Betray the hapless lover.
I know thou doom'st me to despair,
Nor wilt, nor canst relieve me;
But, oh! Eliza, hear one prayer,
For pity's sake forgive me!
3 The music of thy voice I heard,
Nor wist while it enslaved me;
I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear'd,
Till fears no more had saved me
The unwary sailor thus, aghast,
The wheeling torrent viewing;
'Mid circling horrors sinks at last
In overwhelming ruin.
1 0 PHILLY, happy be that day,
When roving through the gather'd hay,
My youthfu' heart was stown away,
And by thy charms, my Philly.
20 Willy, aye I bless the grove
Where first I own'd my maiden love, Whilst thou didst pledge the Powers above To be my ain dear Willy.
3 As songsters of the early year
Are ilka day mair sweet to hear,
So ilka day to me mair dear
And charming is my Philly.
4 As on the brier the budding rose
Still richer breathes and fairer blows,
So in my tender bosom grows
The love I bear my Willy.
5 The milder sun and bluer sky,
That crown my harvest cares wi' joy,
Were ne'er sae welcome to my eye
As is a sight o' Philly.
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