The Modern Scottish Minstrel Volume I Part 31

[62] The wells of Weary are situated near the Windyknowe, beneath Salisbury Crags.

THE HEIRESS.[63]

GAELIC AIR--_"Mo Leannan Falnich."_

I 'll no be had for naething, I 'll no be had for naething, I tell ye, lads, that 's ae thing, So ye needna follow me.

Oh, the change is most surprising, Last year I was plain Betty Brown, Now to me they 're a' aspiring,-- The fair Elizabeth I am grown!

What siller does is most amazing, Nane o' them e'er look'd at me, Now my charms they a' are praising, For my sake they 're like to dee.

The Laird, the s.h.i.+rra, and the Doctor, Wi' twa three Lords o' high degree; Wi' heaps o' Writers I could mention-- Oh, surely this is no me!

But I 'll no, &c.

The yett is now for ever ringing, Showers o' valentines aye bringing, Fill'd wi' Cupids, flames, and darts, Fae auld and young, wi' broken hearts.

The siller, O the weary siller!

Aft in toil and trouble sought, But better far it should be sae, Than that true hearts should e'er be bought.

Sae I 'll no, &c.

But there is ane, when I had naething, A' his heart he gi'ed to me; And sair he toil'd for a wee thing, To bring me when he cam frae sea.

If ever I should marry ony, He will be the lad for me; For he was baith gude and bonny, And he thought the same o' me.

Sae I 'll no, &c.

[63] This song is printed from an improved version of the original, by a literary friend of the author.

THE MITHERLESS LAMMIE.

The mitherless lammie ne'er miss'd its ain mammie, We tent.i.t it kindly by night and by day, The bairnies made game o't, it had a blithe hame o't, Its food was the gowan--its music was "_mai_."

Without tie or fetter, it couldna been better, But it would gae witless the world to see; The foe that it fear'd not, it saw not, it heard not, Was watching its wand'ring frae Bonnington Lea.

Oh, what then befell it, 't were waefu' to tell it, Tod Lowrie kens best, wi' his lang head sae sly; He met the pet lammie, that wanted its mammie, And left its kind hame the wide world to try.

We miss'd it at day-dawn, we miss'd it at night-fa'in', Its wee shed is tenantless under the tree, Ae dusk i' the gloamin' it wad gae a roamin'; 'T will frolic nae mair upon Bonnington Lea.

THE ATTAINTED SCOTTISH n.o.bLES.[64]

Oh, some will tune their mournfu' strains, To tell o' hame-made sorrow, And if they cheat you o' your tears, They 'll dry upon the morrow.

Oh, some will sing their airy dreams, In verity they're sportin', My sang 's o' nae sic thieveless themes, But wakin' true misfortune.

Ye Scottish n.o.bles, ane and a', For loyalty attainted, A nameless bardie 's wae to see Your sorrows unlamented; For if your fathers ne'er had fought For heirs of ancient royalty, Ye 're down the day that might hae been At the top o' honour's tree a'.

For old hereditary right, For conscience' sake they stoutly stood; And for the crown their valiant sons Themselves have shed their injured blood; And if their fathers ne'er had fought For heirs of ancient royalty, They 're down the day that might hae been At the top o' honour's tree a'.

[64] This song having become known to George IV., it is said to have induced his Majesty to award the royal sanction for the rest.i.tution of the t.i.tle of Baron to Lady Nairn's husband.--(See Memoir.)

TRUE LOVE IS WATERED AYE WI' TEARS.[65]

True love is water'd aye wi' tears, It grows 'neath stormy skies, It 's fenced around wi' hopes and fears An' fann'd wi' heartfelt sighs.

Wi' chains o' gowd it will no be bound, Oh! wha the heart can buy?

The t.i.tled glare, the warldling's care, Even absence 'twill defy, Even absence 'twill defy.

And time, that kills a' ither things, His withering touch 'twill brave, 'Twill live in joy, 'twill live in grief, 'Twill live beyond the grave!

'Twill live, 'twill live, though buried deep, In true heart's memorie-- Oh! we forgot that ane sae fair, Sae bricht, sae young, could dee, Sae young could dee.

Unfeeling hands may touch the chord Where buried griefs do lie-- How many silent agonies May that rude touch untie!

But, oh! I love that plaintive lay-- That dear auld melodie!

For, oh, 'tis sweet!--yet I maun greet, For it was sung by thee, Sung by thee!

They may forget wha lichtly love, Or feel but beauty's chain; But they wha loved a heavenly mind Can never love again!

A' my dreams o' warld's guid Aye were turn'd wi' thee, But I leant on a broken reed Which soon was ta'en frae me, Ta'en frae me.

'Tis weel, 'tis weel, we dinna ken What we may live to see, 'Twas Mercy's hand that hung the veil O'er sad futurity!

Oh, ye whose hearts are scathed and riven, Wha feel the warld is vain, Oh, fix your broken earthly ties Where they ne'er will break again, Break again!

[65] Here first printed.

AH, LITTLE DID MY MOTHER THINK.[66]

Ah, little did my mother think When to me she sung, What a heartbreak I would be, Her young and daut.i.t son.

And oh! how fond she was o' me In plaid and bonnet braw, When I bade farewell to the north countrie, And marching gaed awa!

Ah! little did my mother think A banish'd man I 'd be, Sent frae a' my kith and kin, Them never mair to see.

Oh! father, 'twas the sugar'd drap Aft ye did gi'e to me, That has brought a' this misery Baith to you and me.