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ADDRESS TO A LADY.
Tune—The Last of Livingstone.
O, Wert thou in the cauld blast,
On yonder lea, on yonder lea; My plaidie to the angry airt,
I 'd shelter thee, I 'd shelter thee. Or did misfortune's bitter storms
Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom,
To share it a', to share it a'.
Or were I in the wildest waste,
Sae black and bare, sae black and bare, The desert were a paradise,
If thou wert there, if thou wert there. Or were I monarch o' the globe,
Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign, The brightest jewel in my crown
Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.
Powers celestial, whose protection
While in distant climes I wander,
Let her form sae fair and faultless,
Let my Mary's kindred spirit
Draw your choicest influence down.
Make the gales you waft around her
Soft and peaceful as her breast; Breathing in the breeze that fans her,
Soothe her bosom into rest:
When in distant lands I roam;
Make her boSom still my home.
RAVING WINDS AROUND HER BLOWING.
Tune—McGregor ofRuara's Lament.
Raving winds around her blowing,
"O'er the past too fondly wandering,
Life, thou soul of every blessing,
SHE SAYS SHE LO'ES ME BEST OF A'. Tune—Onagh'i Water-fall
Sae flaxen were her ringlets,
Her eyebrows of a darker hue, Bewitchingly o'er-arching
Twa laughing een o' bonnie blue. Her smiling, sae wyling,
Wad make a wretch forget his woe; What pleasure, what treasure,
Unto these rosy lips to grow! Such was my Chloris' bonnie face,
When first her bonnie face I saw, And aye my Chloris' dearest charm,
She says she lo'es me best of a'.
Like harmony her motion;
Her pretty ancle is a spy Betraying fair proportion,
Wad make a saint forget the sky. Sae warming, sae charming,
Her faultless form and gracefu' air; Ilk feature—auld Nature
Declared that she could do nae mair:
Hers are the willing chains o' love,
And aye my Chloris' dearest charm,
Let others love the city,
And gaudy show at sunny noon; Gie me the lonely valley,
The dewy eve and rising moon, Fair beaming, and streaming,
Her silver light the boughs amang; While falling, recalling,
The amorous thrush concludes his sang: There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove
By wimpling burn and leafy shaw, And hear my vows o' truth and love,
And say thou lo'est me best of a'?
Bruce's Address To His Army Before His Victory At Bannockburn.
Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Now's the day, and now's the hour;
Wha will be a traitor knave?
Traitor! coward! turn and flee!
Wha for Scotland's king and law
By oppression's woes and pains!
Lay the proud usurpers low!
MY WIFE 'S A WINSOME WEE THING.
She is a winsome wee thing,
I never saw a fairer,
I never lo'ed a dearer,
And niest my heart I 'll wear her,
For fear my jewel tine.