Poems And Songs Of Robert Burns - Part 100
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Part 100

"Stop thief!" dame Nature call'd to Death, As w.i.l.l.y drew his latest breath; How shall I make a fool again?

My choicest model thou hast ta'en.

On John Bushby, Esq., Tinwald Downs

Here lies John Bushby--honest man, Cheat him, Devil--if you can!

Sonnet On The Death Of Robert Riddell

Of Glenriddell and Friars' Ca.r.s.e.

No more, ye warblers of the wood! no more; Nor pour your descant grating on my soul; Thou young-eyed Spring! gay in thy verdant stole, More welcome were to me grim Winter's wildest roar.

How can ye charm, ye flowers, with all your dyes?

Ye blow upon the sod that wraps my friend!

How can I to the tuneful strain attend?

That strain flows round the untimely tomb where Riddell lies.

Yes, pour, ye warblers! pour the notes of woe, And soothe the Virtues weeping o'er his bier: The man of worth--and hath not left his peer!

Is in his "narrow house," for ever darkly low.

Thee, Spring! again with joy shall others greet; Me, memory of my loss will only meet.

The Lovely La.s.s O' Inverness

The lovely la.s.s o' Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For, e'en to morn she cries, alas!

And aye the saut tear blin's her e'e.

"Drumossie moor, Drumossie day-- A waefu' day it was to me!

For there I lost my father dear, My father dear, and brethren three.

"Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are growin' green to see; And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman's e'e!

"Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord, A bluidy man I trow thou be; For mony a heart thou has made sair, That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee!"

Charlie, He's My Darling

'Twas on a Monday morning, Right early in the year, That Charlie came to our town, The young Chevalier.

Chorus--An' Charlie, he's my darling, My darling, my darling, Charlie, he's my darling, The young Chevalier.

As he was walking up the street, The city for to view, O there he spied a bonie la.s.s The window looking through, An' Charlie, &c.

Sae light's he jumped up the stair, And tirl'd at the pin; And wha sae ready as hersel'

To let the laddie in.

An' Charlie, &c.

He set his Jenny on his knee, All in his Highland dress; For brawly weel he ken'd the way To please a bonie la.s.s.

An' Charlie, &c.

It's up yon heathery mountain, An' down yon scroggie glen, We daur na gang a milking, For Charlie and his men, An' Charlie, &c.

Bannocks O' Bear Meal

Chorus--Bannocks o' bear meal, Bannocks o' barley, Here's to the Highlandman's Bannocks o' barley!

Wha, in a brulyie, will First cry a parley?

Never the lads wi' the Bannocks o' barley, Bannocks o' bear meal, &c.

Wha, in his wae days, Were loyal to Charlie?

Wha but the lads wi' the Bannocks o' barley!

Bannocks o' bear meal, &c.

The Highland Balou

Hee balou, my sweet wee Donald, Picture o' the great Clanronald; Brawlie kens our wanton Chief Wha gat my young Highland thief.

Leeze me on thy bonie craigie, An' thou live, thou'll steal a naigie, Travel the country thro' and thro', And bring hame a Carlisle cow.

Thro' the Lawlands, o'er the Border, Weel, my babie, may thou furder!

Herry the louns o' the laigh Countrie, Syne to the Highlands hame to me.

The Highland Widow's Lament

Oh I am come to the low Countrie, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie!

Without a penny in my purse, To buy a meal to me.