X.

THE HIGHLAND La.s.sIE.

Tune--"_The deuks dang o'er my daddy_!"

["The Highland La.s.sie" was Mary Campbell, whose too early death the poet sung in strains that will endure while the language lasts. "She was," says Burns, "a warm-hearted, charming young creature as ever blessed a man with generous love."]

I.

Nae gentle dames, tho' e'er sae fair, Shall ever be my muse's care: Their t.i.tles a' are empty show; Gie me my Highland la.s.sie, O.

Within the glen sae bushy, O, Aboon the plains sae rushy, O, I set me down wi' right good-will, To sing my Highland la.s.sie, O.

II.

Oh, were yon hills and valleys mine, Yon palace and yon gardens fine, The world then the love should know I bear my Highland la.s.sie, O.

III.

But fickle fortune frowns on me, And I maun cross the raging sea; But while my crimson currents flow, I'll love my Highland la.s.sie, O.

IV.

Altho' thro' foreign climes I range, I know her heart will never change, For her bosom burns with honour's glow, My faithful Highland la.s.sie, O.

V.

For her I'll dare the billows' roar, For her I'll trace a distant sh.o.r.e, That Indian wealth may l.u.s.tre throw Around my Highland la.s.sie, O.

VI.

She has my heart, she has my hand, by sacred truth and honour's band!

'Till the mortal stroke shall lay me low, I'm thine, my Highland la.s.sie, O.

Farewell the glen sae bushy, O!

Farewell the plain sae rushy, O!

To other lands I now must go, To sing my Highland la.s.sie, O.

XI.

PEGGY.

[The heroine of this song is said to have been "Montgomery's Peggy."]

Tune--"_I had a horse, I had nae mair._"

I.

Now westlin winds and slaughtering guns Bring autumn's pleasant weather; The moor-c.o.c.k springs, on whirring wings, Amang the blooming heather: Now waving grain, wide o'er the plain, Delights the weary farmer; And the moon shines bright, when I rove at night To muse upon my charmer.

II.

The partridge loves the fruitful fells; The plover loves the mountains; The woodc.o.c.k haunts the lonely dells; The soaring hern the fountains; Thro' lofty groves the cushat roves The path of man to shun it; The hazel bush o'erhangs the thrush, The spreading thorn the linnet.

III.

Thus ev'ry kind their pleasure find, The savage and the tender; Some social join, and leagues combine; Some solitary wander: Avaunt, away! the cruel sway, Tyrannic man's dominion; The sportsman's joy, the murd'ring cry, The flutt'ring, gory pinion.

IV.

But Peggy, dear, the ev'ning's clear, Thick flies the skimming swallow; The sky is blue, the fields in view, All fading-green and yellow: Come, let us stray our gladsome way, And view the charms of nature; The rustling corn, the fruited thorn, And every happy creature.

V.

We'll gently walk, and sweetly talk, Till the silent moon shine clearly; I'll grasp thy waist, and, fondly prest, Swear how I love thee dearly: Not vernal show'rs to budding flow'rs, Not autumn to the farmer, So dear can be as thou to me, My fair, my lovely charmer!

XII.

THE RANTIN' DOG, THE DADDIE O'T.

Tune--"_East nook o' Fife._"

[The heroine of this humorous ditty was the mother of "Sonsie, smirking, dear-bought Bess," a person whom the poet regarded, as he says, both for her form and her grace.]

I.

O wha my babie-clouts will buy?

O wha will tent me when I cry?

Wha will kiss me where I lie?-- The rantin' dog, the daddie o't.

II.

O wha will own he did the fau't?

O wha will buy the groanin' maut?

O wha will tell me how to ca't?

The rantin' dog, the daddie o't.