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appear arms auld baith Bauldy bear beauty better blyth bonny breast called charms dance dear delight Edinburgh edition eyes face fair fear Forbes frae gang Gentle give GLAUD grace green grow Hall hand happy head hear heart hill honour hope I'll ilka Jenny keep kind kiss lass late leave look MADGE mair maun MAUSE miles mind morning nae mair nature ne'er never night o'er pastoral PATIE Peggy Pennecuik pleasure poem poor prove Ramsay Ramsay's rise ROGER round sang scenes seen shepherd shine side sing SIR WILLIAM smile soon speak stand sweet SYMON Syne tell thee There's thing thou thought till true tune wife young
Page 48 - Just enter'd in her teens, Fair as the day, and sweet as May, Fair as the day, and always gay ; My Peggy is a young thing, And I'm not very auld, Yet well I like to meet her at The wauking o
Page 48 - The wauking of the fauld. My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, Whene'er we meet alane, I wish nae mair to lay my care, — I wish nae mair of a' that's rare. My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, To a' the lave I'm cauld; But she gars a' my spirits glow, At wanking of the fauld.
Page 58 - Jenny. I never thought a single life a crime. Peggy. Nor I: but love in whispers lets us ken That men were made for us, and we for men. Jenny. If Roger is my jo, he kens himsell, For sic a tale I never heard him tell. He glowrs* and...
Page 200 - Be sure ye dinna quat the grip Of ilka joy when ye are young, Before auld age your vitals nip, And lay ye twafald o'er a rung. Sweet youth's a...
Page 48 - I look down on a' the town, — That I look down upon a crown. My Peggy smiles sae kindly, It makes me blyth and bauld; And naething gi'es me sic delight As wauking of the fauld. My Peggy sings sae saftly, When on my pipe I play, By a' the rest it is confest, — By a' the rest, that she sings best.
Page 230 - FAREWELL to Lochaber, and farewell my Jean, Where heartsome with thee I've mony day been ; For Lochaber no more, Lochaber no more, We'll maybe return to Lochaber no more. These tears that I shed they are a...
Page 223 - POLWART ON THE GREEN, (ij AT Polwart on the green If you'll meet me the morn, Where lasses do conveen To dance about the thorn, A kindly welcome ye shall meet Frae her wha likes to view A lover and a lad complete— The lad and lover you.
Page 63 - I'll have a' things made ready to his will. In winter, when he toils thro' wind and rain, A bleezing ingle, and a clean hearth-stane; And soon as he flings by his plaid and staff, The seething...