I've a hen wi' a happity leg; Lass, gin ye lo'e me, tak me now; And I canna come ilka day to woo. And I winna come ony mair to woo. SONG 239. Now's the time for mirth and glee, Laugh and love and fing with me ;Cupid is my theme of story, 'Tis his godfhip's fame and glory; O'er the grave and o'er the gay, Bending then unto his law, ha! haha! Sly the urchin deals in darts, Firmly fix'd is Cupid's law, ha! haha! You may doubt these things are true ; Cupid's will is folely law, ha! ha!-ha! SONG 240. WARS ALARM S. SINCE war's alarms entic'd my Willy from me, Ah, why did I ere flight him, Coldly anfwering his fond tale, Which drove him forth amidst the rage of wars, But I no longer, tho' a maid for faken, The hoftile country over, Shall longer keep me from my dear. SONG 241. OH! fend me Lewis Gordon hame, And the lad I dare not name.; Hech hey! my Highland-man, My handsome charming Highland-man, Oh! to fee his tartan-trews, And that's the Lad that I'll go wi' This Lovely Lad I now do fing, Oh to fee this Princely One, Seated on a royal throne; Our griefs wou'd then a' disappear, Hech hey! &c. Hech hey! &c. Hech hey! &c. SONG 242. THRO' THE WOOD, LADDIE. SANDY, why leaves thou thy Nelly to mourn! Thy prefence cou'd ease me, &c. Now dowie I figh on the banks of the burn, Thro' the wood, laddie; Now dowie 1 figh, &c. Tho' woods now are bonny, and, mornings are clear, While lav'rocks are finging, And primroses springing; Yet nane of them pleases my eye or my ear, Thro' the wood, &c. That I am forfaken, fome spare not tell : Baith ev'ning and morning : Their jeering gaes aft to my heart wi' a knell, Thro' the wood, &c. Then ftay, my dear Sandy, nae langer away,: But quick as an arrow, Hafte here to thy marrow, Wha's living in languor till that happy day, When thro' the wood, laddie, we'll dance, fing, and play. Thro' the wood, &c. SONG 243. THRO' THE WOOD, LASSIE. NELLY! no longer thy Sandy now mourn, Abound, without measure, Let mufic and pleasure, &c. O'er hillocks, or mountains, or low in the burn, Or, thro' the wood, laffie, until thou return, Thro' the wood, laffie, thro' the wood, laffie, Thro' the wood, thro' the wood, Thro the wood, lafie ; O'er hillocks, or mountains, &c. Since I have been abfent from thee, my dear Nell, No content, no delight, Have I known day or night, The murmuring ftream, and the hill's echo, tell, How thro' the wood, laffie, I breath'd my fad knell. Thro' the wood, &c. |