With starless gloom o'ercast my sullen sky:
But when, in beauty's light,
She meets my ravish'd sight,
When through my very heart
Her beaming glories dart;
"Tis then I wake to life, to light, and joy!
LASSIE WI' THE LINT-WHITE LOCKS.
TUNE-" ROTHEMURCHIE'S RANT."
JASSIE wi' the lint-white locks,
Bonnie lassie, artless lassie,
Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks?
Wilt thou be my dearie O?
Now Nature cleeds the flowery lea,
And a' is young and sweet like thee;
O wilt thou share its joys wi' me,
And say thou'lt be my dearie O?
Lassie wi', &c.
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.
Lassie wi', &c.
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.
Lassie wi', &c.
And when the howling wintry blast
Disturbs my lassie's midnight rest;
Enclasped to my faithfu' breast,
I'll comfort thee, my dearie O.
Lassie wi' the lint-white locks,
Bonnie lassie, artless lassie,
Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks,
Wilt thou be my dearie O?
TUNE "THE DEATH OF THE LINNET."
UT lately seen in gladsome green
The woods rejoic'd the day,
Through gentle showers the laughing
flowers
In double pride were gay:
But now our joys are fled,
On winter blasts awa!
Yet maiden May, in rich array,
Again shall bring them a'.
But my white pow, nae kindly thowe
Shall melt the snaws of age;
My trunk of eild, but buss or beild,
Sinks in time's wintry rage.
Oh, age has weary days,
And nights o' sleepless pain!
Thou golden time o' youthfu' prime,
Why com'st thou not again?
TUNE-" NANCY'S TO THE GREENWOOD GANE."
AREWELL, thou stream that winding
Around Eliza's dwelling!
O Mem'ry! 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 ev'ry vein,
Nor dare disclose my anguish.
Love's veriest wretch, unseen, unknown,
I fain my griefs would cover:
The bursting sigh, th' 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!
The music of thy voice I heard,
Nor wist while it enslav'd me;
I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear'd,
Till fears no more had sav'd me:
Th' unwary sailor, thus aghast,
The wheeling torrent viewing,
'Mid circling horrors sinks at last
In overwhelming ruin.
TUNE-" LUMPS O' PUDDING."
ONTENTED wi' little, and cantie wi'
Whene'er I forgather wi' sorrow and
I gie them a skelp as they're creepin' alang,
Wi' a cog o' gude swats, and an auld Scottish sang.
I whyles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought;
But man is a soger, and Life is a faught:
My mirth and gude humour are coin in my pouch, And my freedom's my lairdship nae monarch dare touch.
A towmond o' trouble, should that be my fa',
A night o' gude fellowship sowthers it a';
When at the blythe end of our journey at last,
Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has past?
Blind Chance, let her snapper and stoyte on her way,
Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jade gae:
Come ease, or come travail; come pleasure or pain,
My warst word is-" Welcome, and welcome again!"
TUNE-" THERE'LL NEVER BE PEACE TILL JAMIE
COMES HAME."
OW in her green mantle blythe Nature
And listens the lambkins that bleat o'er
the braes,
While birds warble welcome in ilka green shaw;
But to me it's delightless-my Nannie's awa.
The snaw-drap and primrose our woodlands adorn,
And violets bathe in the weet o' the morn:
They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw,
They mind me o' Nannie-and Nannie's awa.
Thou laverock that springs frae the dews o' the lawn,
The shepherd to warn o' the grey-breaking dawn,
And thou, mellow mavis, that hails the night-fa',
Gie over for pity-my Nannie's awa.
Come Autumn sae pensive, in yellow and gray,
And soothe me wi' tidins o' Nature's decay;
The dark, dreary winter, and wild-driving snaw,
Alane can delight me-now Nannie's awa.
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