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FAIR Lady! leave parade and show!
O, leave thy courtly guise a while!
For thee, the vernal breezes blow;
And groves and flowery valleys smile!

For no conceited selfish pride
Corrupts thy taste for rural joy;
Nor can thy gentle heart abide
The taunting lip, or scornful eye!

Nor Scorn, nor Envy, harbour here! Nor Discord, nor profane desires! No Flattery shall offend thine ear, For love our faithful Song inspires!

When smiling Morn ariseth gay,

Gilding the dewdrops on the lawn, Our flocks on flowery uplands stray,

When Noon-tide scorcheth all the hills,
And all the flowers and herbage fade;
We seek the cool refreshing rills

That warble through the greenwood glade :

But when the lucid star of Eve
Shines in the western sky serene,
The Swains and Shepherdesses weave
Fantastic measures on the Green.

O, Lady! change thy splendid State!
With us, a Shepherdess abide!
Contentment dwells not with the Great;
But flies from Avarice and Pride!

The groves invite thee, and our Vale!
Where every fragrant bud that blows,
And every stream, and every gale,
Will yield thee pastime and repose!

WHAT AILS THIS HEART O' MINE?

'WHAT ails this heart o' mine?

What ails this watery ee?

What gars me a' turn cauld as death,

When I take leave o' thee?

When thou art far awa,

Thou'lt dearer grow to me;
But change o' place and change o' folk
May gar thy fancy jee!

'When I gae out at een,

Or walk at morning air,

Ilk rustling bush will seem to say,
"I us'd to meet thee there!"
Then I'll sit down and cry,

And live aneath the tree;
And when a leaf fa's i' my lap,
I'll ca' 't a word from thee!

'I'll hie me to the bower

That thou wi' roses tied;

And where, wi' mony a blushing bud,
I strove mysell to hide!

I'll doat on ilka spot,

Where I hae been wi' thee;
And ca' to mind some kindly word,
By ilka burn and tree!

'Wi' sic thoughts i' my mind;

Time through the world may gae,
And find my heart, in twenty years,
The same as 'tis to-day!

'Tis thoughts that bind the soul;
And keep friends i̇' the ee!
And gin I think, I see thee aye;
What can part thee and me?'

I'VE GOTTEN A ROCK! I'VE GOTTEN A REEL!

I've gotten a rock! I've gotten a reel!
I've gotten a wee bit Spinning Wheel!
An' by the whirling rim, I've found
How the weary, weary, Warl goes round!
'Tis roun! an' roun! the spokes they go;
Now ane is up, an' ane is low!

'Tis by ups and downs in FORTUNE'S Wheel,
That mony ane gets a rock to reel!

I've seen a Lassie barefoot gae,
Look dash'd an' blate, wi' nought to say;
But as the Wheel turn'd round again,
She chirp'd an' talk'd, nor seem'd the same!
Sae fine she goes, sae far aglee,
That folks she kenn'd she canna see!
An' fleeching chiels around her thrang,
Till she miskens her a' day lang.

There's Jock, when the bit Lass was poor,
Ne'er trudg'd o'er the lang mossy moor;
Though now, to the knees he wades, I trow,
Through winter's weet an' winter's snow!
An' PATE declar'd, the ither morn,
She was like a lily amang the corn!
Though ance he swore, her dazzling een
Were bits o' glass that black'd had been.

Now, Lassies! I hae found it out,
What men make a' this phrase about!
For, when they praise your blinking ee,
'Tis certain, that your gowd they see!
An', when they talk o' roses bland,
They think o' the roses o' your land!
But should Dame FORTUNE turn her Wheel;
They'd aff in a dance of a threesome reel!

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