III.

I lock'd her in my fond embrace ;
Her heart was beating rarely :
My blessings on that happy place,
Amang the rigs c' barley!

But by the moon and stars so bright,
That shone that hour so clearly!
She ay shall bless that happy night
Amang the rigs o' barley.

IV.

I hae been blythe wi' Comrades dear;

I hae been merry drinking;

I hae been joyfu' gath'rin gear;
I hae been happy thinking :
But a' the pleasures e'er I saw,

Tho' three times doubl'd fairly, That happy night was worth them a', Amang the rigs o' barley.

CHORUS.

Corn rigs, an' barley rigs,
An' corn rigs are bonie:
I'll ne'er forget that happy night,
Amang the rigs wi' Annie.

B

SONG.

TUNE-" My Nanie, O."

EHIND yon hills where Stinchar flows, 'Mang moors an' mosses many, O, The wintry sun the day has clos'd, And I'll awa' to Nanie, O.

The westlin wind blaws loud an' shill;
The night's baith mirk and rainy, O:
But I'll get my plaid an' out I'll steal,
An' owre the hill to Nanie, O.

My Nanie's charming, sweet an' young;
Nae artfu' wiles to win ye, O:
May ill befa' the flattering tongue
That wad beguile my Nanie, O.

Her face is fair, her heart is true;
As spotless as she's bonie, O;
The op'ning gowan, wat wi' dew,
Nae purer is than Nanie, O.

A country lad is my degree,

An' few there be that ken me, 0; But what care I how few they be,

I'm welcome ay to Nanie, O.

My riches a's my penny-fee,

An' I maun guide it cannie, O;
But warl's gear ne'er troubles me,
My thoughts are a'-my Nanie, O.

Our auld Guidman delights to view
His sheep an' kye thrive bonie, O;
But I'm as blythe that hauds his pleugh,
An' has nae care but Nanie, O.

Come weel, come woe, I care na by,
I'll tak what Heav'n will send me, O :

Nae ither care in life have I,

But live, an' love my Nanie, O.

GREEN GROW THE RASHES.

A FRAGMENT.

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.

I.

HERE'S nought but care on ev'ry han',

TH

In ev'ry hour that passes, O:

What signifies the life o' man,
An' 'twere na for the lasses, O.

Green grow, etc.

II.

The warly race may riches chase,
An' riches still may fly them, O;
An' tho' at last they catch them fast,
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.
Green grow, etc.

III.

But gie me a canny hour at e'en,
My arms about my Dearie, O;
An' warly cares, an' warly men,
May a' gae tapsalteerie, O !
Green grow, etc.

IV.

For you sae douse, ye sneer at this,
Ye're nought but senseless asses, O:

The wisest Man the warl' saw,
He dearly lov'd the lasses, O.
Green grow, etc.

V.

Auld Nature swears, the lovely Dears
Her noblest work she classes, O;

Her prentice han' she try'd on man,
An' then she made the lasses, O.
Green grow, etc.

*