THE FLOWER O' DUMBLANE. How sweet is the brier, wi' its saft fauldin' blossom, Though mine were the station o' loftiest grandeur, ROBERT TANNAHILL. THE LASS OF RICHMOND HILL. ON Richmond Hill there lives a lass More bright than May-day morn, Whose charms all other maids surpass, A rose without a thorn. This lass so neat, with smiles so sweet, Ye zephyrs gay, that fan the air, How happy will the shepherd be Who calls this nymph his own! O, may her choice be fixed on me! Mine's fixed on her alone. UPTON. By dae ar night, the best ov all, To zee my Fanny's smilén fiace; An' dere the stiately trees da grow, A-rockén as the win' da blow, While she da sweetly sleep below, In the stillness o' the night. An' dere at evemen I da goo, A-hoppén auver ghiates an' bars, By twinklen light o' winter stars, When snow da clumper to my shoe; An' zometimes we da slyly catch A chat, an hour upon the stratch, An' piart wi' whispers at the hatch, In the stillness o' the night. An' zometimes she da goo to zome Young nâighbours' housen down the pliace, An' I da wish a vield a mile, WILLIAM BARNES. MARY MORISON. O MARY, at thy window be ! It is the wished, the trysted hour! Those smiles and glances let me see That make the miser's treasure poor : Yestreen when to the trembling string I sat, but neither heard nor saw : O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace Whase only faut is loving thee? A thought ungentle canna be ROBERT BURNS. IN THE STILLNESS O' THE NIGHT. DORSET DIALECT. Ov all the housen o' the pliace Ther 's gone wher I da like to call, O MISTRESS MINE. O MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming? Every wise man's son doth know. SHAKESPEARE THE LOW-BACKED CAR. WHEN first I saw sweet Peggy, A low-backed car she drove, and sat But when that hay was blooming grass, But just rubbed his owld poll, In battle's wild commotion, The proud and mighty Mars Has darts in her bright eye, That knock men down in the market town, For the doctor's art Cannot cure the heart, That is hit from that low-backed car. Sweet Peggy round her car, sir, Has strings of ducks and geese, Just like a turtle-dove, Of the blooming god of Love! While she sits in her low-backed car, The lovers come near and far, And envy the chicken As she sits in her low-backed car. O, I'd rather own that car, sir, Than a coach and four, and gold galore, And a lady for my bride; For the lady would sit forninst me, With my arm around her waist, SAMUEL LOVER. SALLY IN OUR ALLEY. Of all the girls that are so smart Her father he makes cabbage-nets, And through the streets does cry 'em ; Her mother she sells laces long To such as please to buy 'em ; And she lives in our alley. When she is by I leave my work, I'll bear it all for Sally; Of all the days that's in the week To walk abroad with Sally; My master carries me to church, I leave the church in sermon-time, When Christmas comes about again, I'll give it to my honey; O, would it were ten thousand pound! I'd give it all to Sally; For she's the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley. Be what it may the time of day, the place be | O, might we live together in lofty palace hall, Where joyful music rises, and where scarlet curtains fall; where it will, Sweet looks of Mary Donnelly, they bloom before me still. so fine, It's rolling down upon her neck, and gathered O, LUVE will venture in where it daurna weel be in a twine. seen, O, luve will venture in where wisdom ance has been! The dance o' last Whit-Monday night exceeded But I will down yon river rove amang the woods all before; No pretty girl for miles around was missing from the floor; But Mary kept the belt of love, and O, but she was gay; She danced a jig, she sung a song, and took my heart away! sae green: And a' to pu' a posie to my ain dear May. The primrose I will pu', the firstling o' the year, And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. When she stood up for dancing, her steps were I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in so complete, view, The music nearly killed itself, to listen to her For it's like a balmy kiss o' her sweet bonnie mou'; The hyacinth's for constancy, wi' its unchanging blue: feet; The fiddler mourned his blindness, he heard her so much praised, But blessed himself he was n't deaf when once her voice she raised. And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. The woodbine I will pu', when the e'ening star is near, And the diamond draps o' dew shall be her een sae clear; The higher I exalt you, the lower I'm cast down. If some great lord should come this way and see The violet's for modesty, which weel she fa's to your beauty bright, And you to be his lady, I'd own it was but right. wear: And a' to be a posie to my ain dear May. I'll tie the posie round wi' the silken band o' luve, And I'll place it in her breast, and I'll swear by a' above, That to my latest draught o' life the band shall ne'er remove : And this will be a posie to my ain dear May. MARY LEE. I HAVE traced the valleys fair In May morning's dewy air, My bonny Mary Lee! ROBERT BURNS. Wilt thou deign the wreath to wear, They are not flowers of Pride, Can they fear thy frowns the while Here's the lily of the vale, All so spotless and so pale, Like thine own purity. And might I make it known, "T is an emblem of my own Love, if I dare so name My esteem for thee. Surely flowers can bear no blame, My bonny Mary Lee. Here's the violet's modest blue, That 'neath hawthorns hides from view, My gentle Mary Lee, While it thinks of thee. My charming Mary Lee; So I've brought the flowers to plead, My bonny Mary Lee! To speak unless the flower Can make excuse for me. |