It is sae sweetly scented,
It seems a maiden's breath;
Aboon the sun has wither'd it,
But there is green beneath ;—
But there is caller green beneath,
Come, lasses, foot away!
The heart is dowie can be cauld
At making o' the hay!
Step lightly o'er, gang saftly by,
Mak' rig and furrow clean,
And coil it up in fragrant heaps,—
We maun hae done at e’en ;—
We maun hae done at gloaming e'en;
And when the clouds grow grey,
Ilk lad may kiss his bonnie lass
Amang the new-made hay !
THE bonnie rowan bush
In yon lane glen,
Where the burnie clear doth gush
In yon lane glen ;
My head is white and auld,
An' my bluid is thin an cauld;
But I lo'e the bonnie rowan bush
In yon lane glen.
My Jeanie first I met
In yon lane glen,
When the grass wi' dew was wet
In yon lane glen;
The moon was shinin' sweet,
An' our hearts wi' love did beat,
By the bonnie, bonnie rowan bush
In yon lane glen.
Sax bonnie bairns had we
In yon lane glen,
Lads an' lasses young an' spree
In yon lane glen;
An' a blither family
Than ours there cou'dna be,
Beside the bonnie rowan bush
In yon lane glen.
Now my auld wife's gane awa
Frae yon lane glen;
An' though simmer sweet doth fa'
In yon lane glen,
To me its beauty's gane,
For, alake, I sit alane
Beside the bonnie rowan bush
In yon lane glen!
Air-"The Highland or 42d regiment's march," composed by GENERAL REID.
In the garb of old Gaul, with the fire of old Rome,
From the heath-cover'd mountains of Scotia we come,
Where the Romans endeavour'd our country to gain;
But our ancestors fought, and they fought not in vain.
Such is our love of liberty, our country, and our laws,
That, like our ancestors of old, we'll stand in freedom's cause:
We'll bravely fight, like heroes bold, for honour and applause,
And defy the French, with all their arts, to alter our laws.
No effeminate customs our sinews unbrace,
No luxurious tables enervate our race;
Our loud-sounding pipe breathes the true martial strain,
And our hearts still the old Scottish valour retain.
We're tall as the oak on the mount of the vale,
And swift as the roe which the hound doth assail;
As the full moon in autumn our shields do appear;
E'en Minerva would dread to encounter our spear.
Such is our love, &c.
As a storm in the ocean when Boreas blows,
So are we enraged when we rush on our foes;
We sons of the mountains, tremendous as rocks,
Dash the force of our foes with our thundering strokes.
Such is our love, &c.
Quebec and Cape Breton, the pride of old France,
In their numbers fondly boasted till we did advance;
But when our claymores they saw us produce,
Their courage did fail, and they sued for a truce.
Such is our love, &c.
In our realm may the fury of faction long cease,
May our councils be wise, and our commerce increase ;
And in Scotia's cold climate may each of us find
That our friends still prove true, and our beauties prove
Then we'll defend our liberty, our country, and our laws,
And teach our late posterity to fight in freedom's cause;
That they, like their ancestors bold, for honour and applause,
May defy the French, with all their arts, to alter our laws.
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 on wi' me!
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