The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume I Part 26

My soul, tho' dismay'd and distracted, Yet bends to thy awful decree.

JOY OF MY EARLIEST DAYS.

AIR--_"I'll never leave thee."_

Joy of my earliest days, Why must I grieve thee?

Theme of my fondest lays, Oh, I maun leave thee!

Leave thee, love! leave thee, love!

How shall I leave thee?

Absence thy truth will prove, For, oh! I maun leave thee!

When on yon mossy stane, Wild weeds o'ergrowin', Ye sit at e'en your lane, And hear the burn rowin'; Oh! think on this partin' hour, Down by the Garry, And to Him that has a' the pow'r, Commend me, my Mary!

OH, WEEL'S ME ON MY AIN MAN.

AIR--_"Landlady count the lawin'."_

Oh, weel's me on my ain man, My ain man, my ain man!

Oh, weel's me on my ain gudeman!

He 'll aye be welcome hame.

I 'm wae I blamed him yesternight, For now my heart is feather light; For gowd I wadna gie the sight; I see him linking ower the height.

Oh, weel's me on my ain man, &c.

Rin, Jamie, bring the kebbuck ben, And fin' aneath the speckled hen; Meg, rise and sweep about the fire, Syne cry on Johnnie frae the byre.

For weel's me on my ain man, My ain man, my ain man!

For weel's me on my ain gudeman!

I see him linkin' hame.

KIND ROBIN LOE'S ME.[52]

Robin is my ain gudeman, Now match him, carlins, gin ye can, For ilk ane whitest thinks her swan, But kind Robin lo'es me.

To mak my boast I 'll e'en be bauld, For Robin lo'ed me young and auld, In summer's heat and winter's cauld, My kind Robin lo'es me.

Robin he comes hame at e'en Wi' pleasure glancin' in his e'en; He tells me a' he 's heard and seen, And syne how he lo'es me.

There 's some hae land, and some hae gowd, Mair wad hae them gin they could, But a' I wish o' warld's guid, Is Robin still to lo'e me.

[52] The author seems to have composed these stanzas as a sequel to a wooing song of the same name, beginning, "Robin is my only jo," which first appeared in Herd's Collection in 1776. There are some older words to the same air, but these are coa.r.s.e, and are not to be found in any of the modern Collections.

KITTY REID'S HOUSE.

AIR--_"Country b.u.mpkin."_

Hech, hey! the mirth that was there, The mirth that was there, The mirth that was there; Hech, how! the mirth that was there, In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!

There was laughin' and singin', and dancin' and glee, In Kitty's Reid's house, in Kitty Reid's house, There was laughin' and singin', and dancin' and glee, In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!

Hech, hey! the fright that was there, The fright that was there, The fright that was there; Hech, how! the fright that was there, In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!

The light glimmer'd in through a crack i' the wa', An' a'body thocht the lift it wad fa', And lads and la.s.ses they soon ran awa'

Frae Kitty's Reid's house on the green, Jo!

Hech, hey! the dule that was there, The dule that was there, The dule that was there; The birds and beasts it wauken'd them a', In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!

The wa' gaed a hurley, and scatter'd them a', The piper, the fiddler, auld Kitty, and a'; The kye fell a routin', the c.o.c.ks they did craw, In Kitty Reid's house on the green, Jo!

THE ROBIN'S NEST.

AIR--_"Lochiel's awa' to France."_

Their nest was in the leafy bush, Sae soft and warm, sae soft and warm, And Robins thought their little brood All safe from harm, all safe from harm.

The morning's feast with joy they brought, To feed their young wi' tender care; The plunder'd leafy bush they found, But nest and nestlings saw nae mair.

The mother cou'dna leave the spot, But wheeling round, and wheeling round, The cruel spoiler aim'd a shot, Cured her heart's wound, cured her heart's wound.

She will not hear their helpless cry, Nor see them pine in slavery!

The burning breast she will not bide, For wrongs of wanton knavery.

Oh! bonny Robin Redbreast, Ye trust in men, ye trust in men, But what their hard hearts are made o', Ye little ken, ye little ken.

They 'll ne'er wi' your wee skin be warm'd, Nor wi' your tiny flesh be fed, But just 'cause you 're a living thing, It 's sport wi' them to lay you dead.

Ye Hieland and ye Lowland lads, As birdies gay, as birdies gay, Oh, spare them, whistling like yoursel's, And hopping blythe from spray to spray!

Their wings were made to soar aloft, And skim the air at liberty; And as you freedom gi'e to them, May you and yours be ever free!

SAW YE NAE MY PEGGY?[53]

Saw ye nae my Peggy?

Saw ye nae my Peggy?