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Haith ye're ill-bred, she'll smiling say,
Ye'll worry me, ye greedy rook !
And hide hersel' in some dark nook.
Where lies the happiness ye want,
Nineteen nae-says are half a grant.
Now to her heaving bosom cling,
And sweetly toolie for a kiss :
As taiken of a future bliss.
Are a' o' heaven's indulgent grant
To plague us wi' your whining cant.
[From the Tea Table Miscellany, 1724. It is in parts a very elegant and very happy imitation of the ninth ode of the first book of Horace. Lord Woodhouselee has called it one of the happiest efforts of Ram. say's genius.]
THE COLLIER'S BONNY LASSIE.
The collier has a daughter,
And O she's wondrous bonny;
Rich baith in lands and money :
The tutors watch'd the motion
Of this young honest lover;
Wha can its depth discover !
And was by a' respected ;
Genteel but unaffected.
Fair as the new-blown lily,
Secur'd the heart of Willie.
He lovd beyond expression
The charms that were about her,
His life was dull without her.
Close to his breast he held her ;
He tenderly thus tell’d her:
Let naething discompose ye,
Shall ever gar me lose ye:
And love says, 'tis my duty
Upon your wit and beauty.
[From the Tea Table Miscellany, 1724--they are modelled from a copy of old verses, for which, see Cunningham's Songs of Scotland, vol. iii. p. 75, and Cromek's Select Songs, vol. i. p. 60.)
How sweetly smells the simmer green !
Sweet taste the peach and cherry :
And claret makes us merry:
And wine, though I be thirsty,
Compar'd with those of Chirsty.
When wandering o'er the flowery park,
No natural beauty wanting,
And birds in concert chanting !
I'm rapt in admiration;
And drap the hale creation.
Whene'er she smiles a kindly glance,
I take the happy omen,
Hoping she'll prove a woman ;
My sentiments I smother; With secret sighs I vex my heart,
For fear she love another
Thus sang blate Edie by a burn,
His Chirsty did o’erhear him ;
But ere he wist drew near him.
Which left nae room to doubt her :
And flang his arms about her.
My Chirsty !-witness, bonnie stream,
Sic joy frae tears arising !
O love the most surprising !
This point of a' his wishes
But wared it a' on kisses.
[Ramsay commences the Tea Table Miscellany with this song.]
CORN-RIGGS ARE BONNY.
My Patie is a lover gay,
His mind is never muddy,
His face is fair and ruddy.
He's stately in his walking ;
'Tis heaven to hear him talking.
Last night I met him on a bawk,
Where yellow corn was growing ;
That set my heart a-glowing.
And loo'd me best of ony;
O corn-riggs are bonny !
Let maidens of a silly mind
Refuse what maist they're wanting,
We chastely should be granting;
Where corn-riggs are bonny.
(From The Gentle Shepherd. “This is a very unequal song.” Burns wrote to George Thomson. “ His mind is never muddy' is a muddy expression indeed.”]
NOW PHEBUS ADVANCES ON HIGH.
Now Phoebus advances on high,
Nae footsteps of winter are seen,
And launbkins dance reels on the green.