Then merry, merry, let us be, An' drink the Port an' Sherry; If we should nae a' be merry. HIGHLAND HARRY BACK AGAIN.† Ye Forest flowers so fresh and gay, Let all your hearts be light and fain; Brought us a Harry back again. And northward turns the nightly wain ; To us so welcome back again. May blessings wait that noble Scott, Who loves to hear the shepherd's strain; And long, in peace, may't be his lot To see this day come back again. The above song was composed and sung at the celebration of the Duke of Buccleuch's birthday at Langholm. The three gentlemen referred to, were Messrs. James Church, George Park, and Walter Bothwick, managers of the ball for that year, 1809. + This and the two following songs were composed for, and sung at, the celebration of the Earl of Dale keith's birthday, at Selkirk, on the 21th May. His heart so kind, his noble mind, His loyal course without a stain, And choice's fair, all, all declare He'll just be Harry back again. HAP AN' ROWE THE FEETIE O'T. TUNE-Grant's Rant. Gae hap an' rowe the feetie o't; Unless we hear the greetie o't. In prophecies precarious, Be sic a man as Harry was. An' nouther flush nor snappy, O; An' a' the gear that e'er he wan Was spent in makin' happy, 0. Gae hap an' rowe, &c. There grew a tree at our house-end, We hack'd it down, for fire, O; An', frae the root, there did ascend A straughter ane an' higher, O: Then what's to hinder our young blade, When sic a simple's shown him, 0, Gae hap an' rowe, &c. This day we'll chime in canty rhyme What spirit we wad hae him, 0; An' if he run as he's begun, Our blessin' aye we'll gie him, O: An' for his country ready, 0; Gae hap an' rowe, &c. While he shall grace the noble name, We'll drink his health in Sherry, 0); An' aye this day we'll dance an' play In reels an' jigs sae merry, 0: To ony ill-behavin', 0, Gae hap an' rowe the feetie o't; BORN. LADDIE. TUNE-Somebody. Our young gudeman was born, laddie, Born, laddie! born, laddie! May health an' happiness attend To cheer him when forlorn, laddie! Born, laddie, &c. 'Tis but the lot of all mankind That ever yet were born, laddie. Born, laddie, &c. DONALD MACDONALD, Tune-Woo'd an' married an' a'. My name it is Donald Macdonald, I live in the Highlands sae grand; I've follow'd our banner, an' will do, Wharever my Maker has land. Nae danger can fear me awa ; Brogs an' brochen an'a'. Short syne we war wonderfu' canty Our friends an' our country to see ; |