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And Scaur, wi' mony a winding sweep,
O'er rocks of reddle raves and rushes;
Though sunk in short and restless sleep,
My fancy wings her flight so airy
To where sweet guardian spirits keep
Their watch around the couch of Mary.

The exile may forget his home,

Where blooming youth to manhood grew; The bee forget the honeycomb,

Nor with the spring his toil renew;
The sun may lose his light and heat;
The planets in their rounds miscarry ;
But
my fond heart shall cease to beat
When I forget my Bonny Mary.

MY BLYTHE AN' BONNY LASSIE.

TUNE-Neil Gow's Farewell to Whisky.

How sair my heart nae man shall ken
When I took leave o' yonder glen,
Her faithful dames, her honest men,

Her streams sae pure an' glassy, 0:
Her woods that skirt the verdant vale,
Her balmy breeze sae brisk an' hale,

Her flower of every flower the wale,
My blythe an' bonny lassie, O!

The night was short, the day was lang, An' ay we sat the birks amang,

Till o'er my head the blackbird sang

Gae part wi' that dear lassie, O.

When on Lamgaro's top sae green
The rising sunbeam red was seen,
Wi' aching heart I left my Jean,
My blythe an' bonny lassie, O.

Her form is gracefu' as the pine;
Her smile the sunshine after rain;
Her nature cheerfu', frank, an' kind,
An' neither proud nor saucy, O.
The ripest cherry on the tree
Was ne'er sae pure or meck to see,
Nor half sae sweet its juice to me
As a kiss o' my dear lassie, O.

Whate'er I do, where'er I be,
Yon glen shall ay be dear to me;

Her banks an' howms sae fair to see;

Her braes sae green
an'

grassy, 0: For there my hopes are centred a';

An' there my heart was stown awa:
An' there my Jeanie first I saw,
My blythe an' bonny lassie, O.

THE BRAES OF BUSHBY.

AE glentin' cheerfu' simmer morn,
As I cam o'er the riggs o' Lorn,
I heard a lassie all forlorn

Lamentin' for her Johnny, O.
Her wild notes pour'd the air alang;
The Highland rocks an' woodlands rang;
An' ay the o'erword o' her sang

Was Bushby braes are bonny, O.

On Bushby braes where blossoms blow, Where blooms the brier an' sulky sloe, There first I met my only joe,

My dear, my faithfu' Johnny, O.
The grove was dark, sae dark an' sweet!
Where first my lad an' I did meet ;
The roses blush'd around our feet:
Then Bushby braes were bonny, O.

Departed joys, how soft! how dear!
That frae my e'e still wrings the tear!
Yet still the hope my heart shall cheer
Again to meet my Johnny, O.
The primrose saw, an' blue hare-bell,
But nane o' them our love can tell,
The thrilling joy I felt too well,

When Bushby braes were bonny, O.

My lad is to the Baltic gane
To fight the proud an' doubtfu' Dane.
For our success my heart is fain;

But 'tis maistly for my Johnny, O.
Then, Cupid, smooth the German sea,
An' bear him back to Lorn an' me!
An' a' my life I'll sing wi' glee,
The Bushby braes are bonny, O.

BLYTHE AN' CHEERY.

TUNE-Blythe, blythe, an' merry was she.

ON Ettrick clear there grows a brier,
An' mony a bonny bloomin' shaw;
But Peggy's grown the fairest flower
The braes o' Ettrick ever saw.
Her cheek is like the woodland rose;
Her e'e the violet set wi' dew;
The lily's fair without compare,
Yet in her bosom tines its hue.

Had I as muckle goud an' gear

As I could lift unto my knee, Nae ither lass but Peggy dear Should ever be a bride to me.

O she's blythe! an' O she's cheery!
O she's bonny, frank, an' free!
The sternies bright, nae dewy night,
Could ever beam like Peggy's e'e.

Had I her hame at my wee house,
That stands aneath yon mountain high,
To help me wi' the kye an' ewes,
An' in my arms at e'ening lie;
O sae blythe! an' O sae cheery
O sae happy we wad be!
The lammie to the ewe is dear,
But Peggy's dearer far to me.

But I may sigh an' stand abeigh,

An' greet till I lose baith my een; Though Peggy's smiles my heart beguiles, She disna mind my love a preen.

O I'm sad! O I'm sorry!

Sad an' sorry may I be ;

I may be sick, an' very sick,

But I'll be desperate sweer to dee.

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