We lap and danced the lee lang day,

Till piper lads were wae and weary;
But Charlie gat the spring to pay,

For kissin' Theniel's bonnie Mary.

THERE'LL NEVER BE PEACE. TUNE-There are few guid Fellows when Willie's

awal.

By yon castle wa', at the close of the day,
I heard a man sing, though his head it was

grey ; And as he was singing, the tears down came, There'll never be peace till Jamie comes

hame. The church is in ruins, the state is in jars ; Delusions, oppressions, and murderous wars ; We darena weel say't, though we ken wha's to blame,

[hame. There'll never be peace till Jamie comes My seven braw sons for Jamie drew sword, And now I greet round their green beds in

the yerd. It brak the sweet heart of my faithfu' auld dame

[hame. There'll never be peace till Jamie comes Now life is a burthen that bows me down, Since I tint my bairns, and he tint his crown; But till my last moments my words are the

[hame! There'll never be peace till Jamie comes

THERE'S A YOUTH IN THIS CITY.

To a Gaelic Air.

TAERE's a youth in this city, it were a great

pity That he frae our lasses should wander awa; For he's bonnie and braw, weel favoured

and a', And his hair has a natural buckle and a'. His coat is the hue of his bonnet sae blue ;

His feckit is white as the new-driven snaw; His hose they are blae, and his shoon like

the slae, And his clear siller buckles they dazzle

a

us a.'

For beauty and fortune the laddie's been .

courtin'; Weel-featur'd, weel-tocher'd, weel-mount

ed, and braw; But chiefly the siller, that gars him gang till

her, The penny's the jewel that beautifies a'. There's Meg wi' the mailen that fain wad

a-haen him ; And Susie, whose daddy was laird o' the

ha'; There's lang-tocher'd Nancy maist fetters

his fancyBut the laddie's dear sel' he loes dearest

of a'.

THERE WAS A LASS.

TUNE-Duncan Davison,

THERE was a lass, they ca'd her Meg,

And she held o'er the moors to spin ; There was a lad that follow'd her,

They ca’d him Duncan Davison. The moor was driegh, and Meg was skiegh,

Her favour Duncan could na win ; For wi' the rock she wad him knock,

And aye she shook the temper-pin. As o'er the moor they lightly foor,

A burn was clear, a glen was green, Upon the banks they easd their shanks,

And aye she set the wheel between : But.Duncan swore a haly aith

That Meg should be a bride the morn, Then Meg took up her spinnin' graith,

And flang them a'out o'er the burn. We'll big a house-a wee, wee house,

And we will live like king and queen, Sae blythe and merry we will be

When ye set by the wheel at e'en, A man may drink and no be drunk ;

A man may fight and no be slain ; A man may kiss a bonnie lass,

And aye be welcome back again.

THINE I AM, MY FAITHFUL FAIR.
TUNE-Liggeram Cosh (the Quaker's wife].
Thine am I, my faithful fair,

Thine, my lovely Nancy ;
Ev'ry pulse along my veins,

Ev'ry roving fancy.
To thy bosom lay my heart.

There to throb and languish :
Tho' despair had wrung its core,

That would heal its anguish.
Take away these rosy lips,

Rich with balmy treasure :
Turn away thine eyes of love,

Lest I die with pleasure.
What is life when wanting love ?

Night without a morning :
Love's the cloudless summer sun,

Nature gay adorning.

THOUGH CRUEL FATE. Though cruel Fate should bid us part,

As far's the Pole and Line, Her dear idea round my heart.

Should tenderly entwine.
Though mountains frown and deserts howl,

And oceans roar between ;
Yet, dearer than my deathless soul,

I still would love my Jean.

THOU HAST LEFT ME EVER.

Tunk-Fee him, father. Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, thou hast left

me ever, Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, thou hast left

me ever ; Aften hast thou yow'd that death only should

us sever, Now thou's left thy lass for aye-I maun see

thee never, Jamie, I'll see thee never.

Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie, thou hast me

forsaken, Thou hast me forsaken, Jamie, thou hast me

forsaken ; Thou canst love anither, jo, while my heart

is breaking; Soon my weary een I'll close-never mair to

waken, Jamie, Ne'er mair to waken.

TIBBIE, I HAE SEEN THE DAY.

TUNE-Invercauld's Reel.
On Tibbie, I hae seen the day

Ye wad na been sae shy ;
For lack o' gear ye lightly mę,

But, trowth, I care na by.