ADOWN WINDING NITH.

133

H

THE BANKS OF THE DEVON.

OW pleasant the banks of the clear-winding Devon,

ing fair!

But the bonniest flower on the banks of the Devon
Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr.
Mild be the sun on this sweet-blushing flower,
In the gay rosy morn, as it bathes in the dew!
And gentle the fall of the soft vernal shower,

That steals on the evening each leaf to renew.
Oh, spare the dear blossom, ye orient breezes,

With chill hoary wing, as ye usher the dawn! And far be thou distant, thou reptile, that seizes The verdure and pride of the garden and lawn! Let Bourbon exult in his gay gilded lilies, And England, triumphant, display her proud rose; A fairer than either adorns the green valleys Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows.

ADOWN WINDING NITH.

DOWN winding Nith I did wander,
To mark the sweet flowers as they spring;

Adown winding Nith I did wander,

Of Phillis to muse and to sing.

Awa' wi' your belles and your beauties,
They never wi' her can compare;

Whaever has met wi' my Phillis,

Has met wi' the queen o' the fair.

134

THE DEIL'S AWA.

The daisy amused my fond fancy,
So artless, so simple, so wild;
Thou emblem, said I, o' my Phillis,
For she is Simplicity's child.

The rosebud's the blush o' my charmer,
Her sweet balmy lip when 'tis prest:
How fair and how pure is the lily,
But fairer and purer her breast!

Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,
They ne'er wi' my Phillis can vie

Her breath is the breath o' the woodbine,
Its dew-drop o' diamond her eye.

Her voice is the song of the morning,

That wakes through the green-spreading grove,

When Phoebus peeps over the mountains,

On music, and pleasure, and love.

But beauty how frail and how fleeting,
The bloom of a fine summer's day!
While worth in the mind o' my Phillis
Will flourish without a decay.

THE DEIL'S AWA' WI' THE EXCISEMAN.

HE Deil cam fiddling through the town,
And danced awa' wi' the Exciseman,

TH

And ilka wife cries-" Auld Mahoun,
I wish you luck o' your prize, man!"

BLITHE HAE I BEEN.

135

The deil's awa', the deil's awa',

The deil's awa' wi' the Exciseman ;
He's danced awa', he's danced awa',

He's danced awa' wi' the Exciseman!

We'll mak our maut, we'll brew our drink,
We'll dance, and sing, and rejoice, man;
And mony braw thanks to the meikle black deil
That danced awa' wi' the Exciseman !

The deil's awa', the deil's awa',

The deil's awa' wi' the Exciseman;
He's danced awa', he's danced awa',

He's danced awa' wi' the Exciseman!

There's threesome reels, there's foursome reels,
There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man;
But the ae best dance e'er cam to the land,
Was the deil's awa' wi' the Exciseman !

The deil's awa', the deil's awa',

The deil's awa' wi' the Exciseman;
He's danced awa', he's danced awa',
He's danced awa' wi' the Exciseman!

BLITHE HAE I BEEN ON YON HILL.

B

LITHE hae I been on yon hill,

As the lambs before me;

Careless ilka thought and free,
As the breeze flew o'er me:

136

OH, WERE MY LOVE.

Now nae langer sport and play,
Mirth and sang can please me!
Lesley is sae fair and coy,

Care and anguish seize me.
Heavy, heavy is the task,
Hopeless love declaring:
Trembling, I dow nocht but glower,
Sighing, dumb, despairing!
If she winna ease the thraws
In my bosom swelling;
Underneath the grass-green sod,
Soon maun be my dwelling.

OH, WERE MY LOVE YON LILAC FAIR.

Wi' purple blossoms to the spring;

And I a bird to shelter there,
When wearied on my little wing:

How I wad mourn, when it was torn,
By autumn wild, and winter rude!
But I wad sing on wanton wing

When youthfu' May its bloom renew'd.

Oh, gin my love were yon red rose,
That grows upon the castle wa',
And I mysel a drap o' dew,

Into her bonnie breast to fa'!

Oh! there beyond expression blest,
I'd feast on beauty a' the night;
Seal'd on her silk-saft faulds to rest,
Till fley'd awa' by Phoebus' light.

FAIR JENNY.

COME, LET ME TAKE THEE.

C

OME, let me take thee to my breast,
And pledge we ne'er shall sunder;

And I shall spurn as vilest dust
The warld's wealth and grandeur :
And do I hear my Jeanie own
That equal transports move her?
I ask for dearest life alone,
That I may live to love her.

Thus in my arms, wi' a' thy charms,
I clasp my countless treasure ;
I'll seek nae mair o' heaven to share
Than sic a moment's pleasure:
And by thy een, sae bonnie blue,
I swear I'm thine for ever!
And on thy lips I seal my vow,
And break it shall I never !

137

WH

FAIR JENNY.

HERE are the joys I have met in the morning,
That danced to the lark's early song?

Where is the peace that awaited my wand'ring,
At evening the wild woods among?

No more a-winding the course of yon river,
And marking sweet flow'rets so fair;

No more I trace the light footsteps of pleasure,
But sorrow and sad sighing care.