Duncan was a lad o' grace,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't,
Maggie's was a piteous case,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
Duncan couldna be her death,
Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath;
Now they're crouse and cantie 2 baith,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't.
WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU, MY LAD.
O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad;
O whistle, and I'll come to you, my
Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad,
O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad.
But warily tent, when ye come to court me,
And comena unless the back-yett be a-jee;
Syne up the back-stile, and let naebody see,
And come as you werena comin' to me,
And come as ye werena comin' to me.
Chorus O whistle, etc.
At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me,
Gang by me as tho' that ye caredna a flie:
But steal me a blink o' your bonie black ee,
Yet look as ye werena lookin' at me.
Yet look as ye werena lookin' at me.
Aye vow and protest that ye carena for me,
And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a wee;
But courtna anither, tho' jokin ye be,
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me,
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me.
JOHN ANDERSON MY Jo.
John Anderson my jo, John,
When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonie brow was brent;*
But now your brow is beld, John,
Your locks are like the snaw;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson my jo.
John Anderson my jo, John,
We clamb the hill thegither;
And monie a canty day, John,
We've had wi' ane anither:
Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson my jo.
WHAT CAN A YOUNG LASSIE DO WI' AN OLD MAN?
What can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie,
What can a young lassie do wi' an auld man?
Bad luck on the penny that tempted my minnie
To sell her poor Jenny for siller an' lan'!
Chorus-Bad luck on the penny, etc.
He's always compleenin' frae mornin' to e'enin',
He hosts and he hirples the weary day lang:
He's doylt and he's dozin', his bluid it is frozen,
Oh, dreary's the night wi' a crazy auld man!
He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers,
I never can please him, do a' that I can;
He's peevish, and jealous of a' the young fellows:
Oh, dool on the day I met wi' an auld man!
My auld auntie Katie upon me takes pity,
I'll do my endeavor to follow her plan:
I'll cross him, and rack him, until I heart-break him,
And then his auld brass will buy me a new pan.
But day and night my fancy's flight
Is ever wi' my Jean.
I see her in the dewy flowers,
I see her sweet and fair:
I hear her in the tunefu' birds,
I hear her charm the air:
There's not a bonie flower that springs
By fountain, shaw,' or green,
There's not a bonie bird that sings,
But minds me o' my Jean.
Oh, Willie brewed a peck o' maut,
And Rob and Allan cam to pree;
Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night,
Ye wadna find in Christendie.
Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair!
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary, fu' o' care!
Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro' the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me o' departed joys,
Departed-never to return.
Thou'lt break my heart, thou bonie bird,
That sings beside thy mate,
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
And wistna o' my fate.
Aft hae I roved by bonie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
And fondly sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
And my fause luver stole my rose,
But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
Upon a morn in June;
And sae I flourished on the morn,
And sae was pu'd on noon.
MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birthplace of valor, the country of worth;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands forever I love.
Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow; Farewell to the straths and green valleys below; Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods; Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.
GREEN GROW THE RASHES, O!
Chorus-Green grow the rashes, O;
Green grow the rashes, O;
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent amang the lasses, O!
|