JOHN ANDERSON, MY JO.
JOHN Anderson, my jo,1 John,
When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonny brow was brent."
But now your brow is held, John,
Your locks are like the snaw;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson, my jo.
John Anderson, my Jo, John,
We clamb the hill thegither;
And mony a canty' day, John,
We've had wi' ane anither:
Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll go;
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.
HIGHLAND MARY.
YE banks, and braes, and streams around
The castle o' Montgomery,
Green bey our woods, and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie !5
There simmer first unfauld her robes,
And there the langest tarry;
For there I took the last fareweel
O' my sweet Highland Mary.
How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk!
How rich the hawthorn's blossom!
As underneath their fragrant shade,
I clasp'd her to my bosom!
The golden hours, on angel wings,
Flew o'er me and my dearie;
For dear to me, as light and life,
Was my sweet Highland Mary!
Wi' mony a vow, and lock'd embrace,
Our parting was fu' tender;
And, pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursels asunder;
But oh! fell Death's untimely frost,
That nipt my flowers sae early!--
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay,
That wraps my Highland Mary!
Oh, pale, pale now, those rosy lips,
I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly!
And closed for aye the sparkling glance
That dwelt on me sae kindly!
And mouldering now in silent dust
That heart that lo'ed me dearly-
But still within my bosom's core
Shall live my Highland Mary!
OH, WHISTLE, AND I'LL COME TO YOU,
Он, whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad,
Oh, whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad:
Though father and mither and a' should gae mad,
Oh, whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad.
But warily tent1 when you come to court me,
And come na unless the back yett2 be a-jee;
Syne up the back stile, and let naebody see,
And come as ye were na comin' to me.
At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me,
Gang by me as though that ye cared na a flie;
But steal me a blink o' your bonny black ee,
Yet look as ye were na looking at me.
Aye vow and protest that ye care na for me, And whiles ye may lightly3 my beauty a wee; But court na anither, though jokin' ye be, For fear that she wile your fancy frae me.
BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY AT
BANNOCKBURN.
SCOTS, whae hae wi' WALLACE bled,
Scots, wham BRUCE has aften led;
Welcome to your gory bed,
Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lour;
See approach proud Edward's power-
Chains and slavery!
Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave!
Let him turn and flee!
Wha, for SCOTLAND'S king and law,
FREEDOM'S SWord will strongly draw;-
Freeman stand, or freeman fa',
Let him follow me!
By Oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!
Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
LIBERTY'S in every blow!
Let us do or die!
CONTENTED WI' LITTLE.
CONTENTED Wi' little, and cantie1 wi' mair,
Whene'er I forgather' wi' sorrow and care,
I gie them a skelp,3 as they're creeping alang,
Wi' a cog o' guid swats, and an auld Scottish зang.
I whiles claw the elbow o' troublesome thought;
But man is a sodger, and life is a faught;
My mirth and guid humor are coin in my pouch,
And my freedom's my lairdship nac monarch dare touch.
A towmond' o' trouble, shoud that be my fa'
A night o' guid fellow-ship sowthers2 it a':
When at the blithe end o' our journey at last,
Wha the deil ever thinks o' the road he has past?
Blind Chance, let her snapper and stoyte3 on her way;
Be't to me, be't frae me, e'en let the jade gae:
Come ease or come travail; come pleasure or pain;
My warst word is-" Welcome, and welcome again!
COMING THROUGH THE RYE
COMING through the rye, poor body,
Coming through the rye,
She draiglet a' her petticoatie,
Coming through the rye.
O Jenny's a' wat, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry;
She draiglet a' her petticoatie,
Coming through the rye.
Gin' a body meet a body
Coming through the rye;
Gin a body kiss a body--
Need a body cry?
Gin a body meet a body
Coming through the glen;
Gin a body kiss a body-
Need the warld ken?
3 Stagger and stumble. 5 If.
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