LXV.

ADDRESS TO A LADY.

TUNE-The Lass 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.

LXVI.

MARY.

POWERS celestial, whose protection
Ever guards the virtuous fair,
While in distant climes I wander,
Let my Mary be your care

H

Let her form sae fair and faultless,
Fair and faultless as your own;
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 :
Guardian angels, O protect her,

When in distant lands I roam;
To realms unknown while fate exiles me,
Make her bosom still my home.

LXVII.

RAVING WINDS AROUND HER BLOWING.

TUNE-M'Gregor of Ruara's Lament.

RAVING winds around her blowing,
Yellow leaves the woodlands strowing,
By a river hoarsely roaring,
Isabella stray'd deploring.

"Farewell, hours that late did measure
Sunshine days of joy and pleasure;
Hail, thou gloomy night of sorrow,
Cheerless night that knows no morrow!

"O'er the past too fondly wandering,
On the hopeless future pondering;
Chilly grief my life-blood freezes,
Fell despair my fancy seizes.

Life, thou soul of every blessing,
Load to misery most distressing,
O how gladly I'd resign thee,
And to dark oblivion join thee!"

LXVIII.

SHE SAYS SHE LO'ES ME BEST OF A'.

TUNE-Onagh's 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,
By conquering beauty's sovereign law;
And aye my Chloris' dearest charm,
She says she lo'es me best of a'.

Let others love the city,

And gaudy show at sunny noou; 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'?

LXIX.

BANNOCKBURN.

BRUCE'S ADdress to HIS ARMY BEFORE HIS
VICTORY AT BANNOCKBURN.

SCOTS, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;
Welcome to your gory bed,

Or to glorious victorie.

Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lower;

See approach proud Edward's power-
Edward! chains and slaverie!

Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave ?

Traitor! coward! turn and flee!

Wha for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Free-man stand, or free-man fa'?
Caledonian! on wi' me!

By oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be-shall be free!

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!

Liberty's in every blow!

Forward! let us do, or die!

LXX.

MY WIFE'S A WINSOME WEE THING.

SHE is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
She is a bonnie wee thing,
This sweet wee wife o' mine.

I never saw a fairer,

I never lo'ed a dearer,

And niest my heart I'll wear her,
For fear my jewel tine.