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Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and wi' tears

in his ee,

Said, Jenny for their fakes, O marry me. .

My heart it said cay, I look'd for Jemmy back; But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a

wreck, The ship it was a wreck, why didna Jemmy die ? And why do I live to say waes me ?

Auld Robin argued fair, tho' my mither didna

speak, She look'd in

my
face till

my

heart was like to break, So they gi'ed him my hand, tho' my heart was

in the fea, And auld Robin Grey is gudeman to me.

I hadna been a wife a week but only four, When fitting fae mournfully at the door, I saw my Jemmy's wreath, for I cudra think it he, 'Till he said, I'm come back for to marry thee.

O sair did we greet, and muckle did we say ; We took but ae kiss, and we tore ourselves away : I wish I were dead but I'm no like to die; And why do I live to say waes me ?

I gang like a ghaift, and carena to spia ; I darena think on Jemmy, for that wou'd be a lin; But I'll do my best a gude wife to be, For auld Robin Grey is kind unto me.

SONG 170.

THE HIGHLAND LADDIE.
THE lawland lads think they are fine ;

But O, they're vain and idly gawdy!
How much unlike that gracefu' mein,
And manly looks of my highland laddie !

O my banny, bonny highland laddie,
My handsome charming highland laddie ;
May heav'n still guard, and love reward
Our lawland laf, and her highland laddic.

If I were free at will to chuse,

To be the wealthiest lawland lady, I'd take young Donald without trews, With bonnet blue, and belted plaidy.

O my bonny, &c.

The brawest beau in burrow's town,

In a' his airs, with art made ready, Compar'd to him he's but a clown; He's finer far in's tartan plaidy.

O my bonny, &c.

O'er benty hill with him I'll run,

And leave my lawland kin and dady,
Frae winter's cauld, and summer's fun,
He'll screen me with his highland plaidy.

O my bonny, &c.

A painted room, and filken bed,

May please a lawland laird and lady ;
But I can kiss and be as glad,
Behind a bush in's highland plaidy.

O my bonny, &c.

Few compliments between us pafs,

I ca' him my dear highland laddie,
And he ca's me his lawland lass,
Syne rows mc in beneath his plaidie.

O my bonny, &c

Nae greater joy I'll e'er pretend,

Than that his love prove true and steady, Like mine to him, which ne'er shall end, While Heav'n preserves my highland laddie.

O my benny, &c.

SONG 171.

ETRICK BANK S.
ON Etrick banks, in a fummer's night,

At glooming when the sheep drave hamc,
I met my lasie braw and right,

Come wading barefoot a' ber lane.
My heart grew light, I ran, I flang

My arms about her lily neck,
And kiss'd and clapt her there fou lang,

My words they were na mony feck.

I said, My laffie, will ye go

To the Highland hills, the Erse to learn ? I'll baith gie thee a cow and ew,

When ye come to the brigg of Earn. At Leith auld meal comes in, ne'er fash,

And herrings at the Broomy Law; Chear up your heart, my bonny lafs,

There's gear to win we never saw.

All day when we have wrought enough,

When winter, frosts, and snaw begin, Soon as the sun gaes west the loch,

At night when ye fit down to spin ; I'll screw my pipes, and play a spring,

And thus the weary night we'll end ; Till the tender kid and lamb.time bring

Our pleasant summer back again.

l'll meet my

Syne when the trees are in their bloom,
And gowans glent o'er ilka field,

lass
amang

the broom, And lead you to my summer shield. Then far frae a' their scornfu' din,

That mak'the kindly hearts their sport, We'll laugh, and kiss, and dance, and fing,

And gar the langest day feem short.

SONG 172. JOLLY mortals, fill your glafles ;

Noble deeds are done by wine ; Scorn the nymph and all her graces :

Who'd for love or beauty pine ?

Look upon this bowl that's fowing,

And a thousand charms you'll find, More than in Chloe when just going,

In the moment to be kind.

Alexander hated thinking :

Drank about at council-board ; Made friends, and gain’d the world by drinking,

More than by his conquering sword.

SONG 173
OH! lead me to some peaceful room,
Where none but honest fellows come,
Where wives loud clappers never sound,
But an eternal laugh goes round.

There let me drown in wine my paing
And never think of home again :
What comfort can a husband have,
To rule the house where he's a Nave?

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