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An' Heaven grant I act my part
To ane sae true an' leal.
This bonny day amang the hay,
I'll mind till death us twine;
An' often bless the happy day
That made my laddie mine."


TUNE-Logie o' Buchan.

My bonny Eliza is fled frae the town,

An' left her poor Jamie her loss to bemoan;
To me 'tis a sad an' lamentable day;

For the bogles have chas'd my Eliza away.

The Lowlands may weep, and the Highlands may


In welcome to her that's the flower of our isle :
It's all for thy honour, ambitious Tay,
That the bogles have chas'd my Eliza away.

There's ae bitter thought has gi'en me muckle pain,

I fear I will never behold her again;

I canna get quit o't, by night nor by day,

Since the bogles have chas'd my Eliza away.

O, sweet may the breeze be her mountains between;

And sweet be her walks through her woodlands so green!

And sweet be the murmurs of fair winding Tay, Since the bogles have chas'd my Eliza away!

I love her; I own it; I'll own it again;
If I had two friends on the earth, she was ane;
And now I can neither be cheerfu' nor gay,
Since the bogles have chas'd my Eliza away
May Heaven in kindness long shelter my flower.
So admir'd by the rich and belov'd by the poor!
Whose blessing will cheer her sweet bosom for

Nor fairy, nor bogle, will chase it away.


TUNE-Prince William Henry's Delight.

SING on, sing on, my bonny bird,
The sang ye sang yestreen, O,
When here, aneath the hawthorn wild,
I met my bonny Jean, O.
My blude ran prinklin' through my veins,
My hair began to steer, O;

My heart play'd deep against my breast!
As I beheld my dear, O.

O weels me on my happy lot!
O weels me on my dearie!
O weels me on the charmin' spot,
Where a' combin'd to cheer me!
'The mavis litit on the bush,

The lavrock on the green, O;
The lily bloom'd, the daisy blush'd,
But a' was nought to Jean, O.

Sing on, sing on, my bonny thrush,
Be neither flee'd nor eerie ;
I'll wad your love sits in the bush,
That gars ye sing sae cheerie :
She may be kind, she may be sweet,
She may be neat an' clean, O;
But O she's but a drysome mate,
· Compar'd wi' bonny Jean, O.

If love wad open a' her stores,

An' a' her bloomin' treasures,
An' bid me rise, an' turn an' choice,
An' taste her chiefest pleasures;
My choice wad be the rosy cheek,
The modest beamin' eye, O;
The yellow hair, the bosom fair,
The lips o' coral dye, O.


A bramble shade around her head,

A burine poplin' by, O;

Our bed the swaird, our sheet the plaid,
Our canopy the sky, O.

An' here's the burn, an' there's the bush
Around the flowrie green, O;

An' this the plaid, an' sure the lass
Wad be my bonny Jean, O.

Hear me, thou bónny modest moon!
Ye sternies twinklin' high, O!
An' a' ye gentle powers aboon,

That roam athwart the sky, O!
Ye see me gratefu' for the past,

Ye saw me blest yestreen, O; An' ever till I breathe my last Ye'll see me true to Jean, O.


TUNE-O'er the Muir amang the Heather.

THOUGH I've enjoy'd my youth in health,
An' liv'd a life both free an' easy!
Yet real delight I never felt

Until I saw my bonny Leezy.
I've seen the Athol birk sae fair,

The mountain pine, an' simple daisy;

But nought I've seen can e'er compare
Wi' the modest, gracefu' form o' Leezy.

I've seen the hare trip o'er the dale,
The lamb upon the lee sae gaily;
But when young Leezy trips the vale,

For lively ease, she dings them fairly.
Her een, the dew-draps o' the morn!

Hae gi'en my heart an unco heezy: It canna be, that pride or scorn

Can lodge within the breast o' Leezy.

I winna greet, I winna dee,

Though love has made me something reezy; But mirth shall ne'er gang down wi' me

If aught befa' my bonny Leezy. When her and I to rest are gane,

May shepherds strew our graves wi' daisy! And when o'er us they make their maen, Aye join my name wi' bonny Leezy!,


TUNE-Jacky Latin.

Now well may I the haunts defy,
Where love unlicens'd reign'd 0;

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