MY NANNIE'S AWA.

TUNE-There 'll never be Peace, &c.

Now in her green mantle blythe nature arrays, 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 lav'rock that springs frae the dews of the lawn,

The shepherd to warn o' the grey-breaking dawn,

And thou mellow mavis that hails the nightfa',

Give over for pity-my Nannie's awa.

Come, Autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and

grey,

And soothe me wi' tidings o' nature's decay; The dark, dreary winter, and wild-driving

snaw,

Alane can delight me-now Nannie's awa.

MY NANNIE, O.

TUNE- My Nannie, O.

BEHIND yon hills where Lugar flows,
'Mang moors and mosses many, O,
The wintry sun the day has clos'd,
And I'll awa to Nannie, O.

The westlin wind blaws loud and shill;
The night's baith mirk and rainy, O;
But I'll get my plaid, and out I'll steal,
And owre the hills to Nannie, O
My Nannie's charming, sweet, and young;
Nae artfu' wiles to win ye, 0:
May ill befa' the flattering tongue
That wad beguile my Nannie, O.
Her face is fair, her heart is true,
As spotless as she's bonnie, O:
The op'ning gowan, wet wi' dew,
Nae purer is than Nannie, O.
A country lad is my degree,

And few there be that ken me, O;
But what care I how few they be?
I'm welcome aye to Nannie, O.
My riches a's my penny-fee,

And I maun guide it cannie, O; But warl's gear ne'er troubles me, My thoughts are a' my Nannie, O. Our auld guidman delights to view His sheep and kye thrive bonnie, O; But I'm as blythe that hauds his pleugh, And has nae care but Nannie, б.

Come weel, come woe, I care nae by,
I'll tak what Heav'n will sen' me,
Nae ither care in life have I,

MY PEGGY'S FACE.
TUNE-My Peggy's Face.

0;

My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form,
The frost of hermit age might warm ;
My Peggy's worth, my Peggy's mind,
Might charm the first of human kind.
I love my Peggy's angel air,
Her face so truly, heavenly fair,
Her native grace so void of art,
But I adore my Peggy's heart.
The lily's hue, the rose's dye,
The kindling lustre of an eye;
Who but owns their magic sway!
Who but knows they all decay!
The tender thrill, the pitying tear,
The gen'rous purpose, nobly dear,
The gentle look that rage disarms-
These are all immortal charms.

MY SPOUSE NANCY.

TUNE--My Jo Janet.

HUSBAND, husband, cease your strife,
Nor longer idly rave, sir;

Tho' I am your wedded wife,

Yet I am not your slave, sir."

"One of two must still obey,
Nancy, Nancy;

Is it man or woman, say,
My spouse, Nancy?"

"If 'tis still the lordly word,
Service and obedience;
I'll desert my sov'reign lord,

And so good-bye allegiance!"

"Sad will I be, so bereft,
Nancy, Nancy,

Yet I'll try to make a shift,
My spouse, Nancy."

My poor heart then break it must,
My last hour I'm near it :

When you lay me in the dust,

Think, think how you will bear it."

"I will hope and trust in heaven,
Nancy, Nancy,

Strength to bear it will be given,
My spouse, Nancy."

"Well, sir, from the silent dead,
Still I'll try to daunt you;
Ever round your midnight bed
Horrid sprites shall haunt you."

"I'll wed another like my dear,
Nancy, Nancy;

Then all hell will fly for fear,
My spouse, Nancy.'

MY WIFE'S A WINSOME WEE

THING.

SHE is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
She is a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.

I never saw a fairer,

I never loe'd a dearer;

And neist my heart I'll wear her,
For fear my jewel tine.

Oh leeze me on my wee thing,
My bonnie blythesome wee thing;
Sae lang's I hae my wee thing,
I'll think my lot divine.

Tho' warld's care we share o't,
And may see mickle mair o't;
Wi' her I'll blythely bear it,
And ne'er a word repine.

NITHSDALE'S WELCOME HAME.

THE noble Maxwells and their powers
Are coming o'er the border,

And they'll gae bigg Terreagles' towers,
And set them a' in order.

And they declare Terreagles fair,
For their abode they chuse it;
There's no a heart in a' the land,
But's lighter at the news o't.