Irish Molly O The boatswain gave the dreadful word, They kissed, she sighed, he hung his head. 919 John Gay [1685-1732] IRISH MOLLY O OH! who is that poor foreigner that lately came to town, She's modest, mild, and beautiful, the fairest I have known The primrose of Ireland-all blooming here alone— The only one entices me is Irish Molly O! When Molly's father heard of it, a solemn oath he swore, MacDonald heard the heavy news, and grievously did say― "Farewell, my lovely Molly, since I'm banished far away, A poor forlorn pilgrim I must wander to and fro, And all for the sake of my Irish Molly O! "There is a rose in Ireland, I thought it would be mine: But now that she is lost to me, I must for ever pine, Till death shall come to comfort me, for to the grave I'll go, And all for the sake of my Irish Molly O! "And now that I am dying, this one request I crave, 666 Unknown SONG Ar setting day and rising morn, Where first thou kindly tauld me To a' our haunts I will repair, By greenwood, shaw, or fountain, Allan Ramsay [1686-1758] LOCHABER NO MORE FAREWELL to Lochaber, an' farewell my Jean, An' no for the dangers attending on weir, Though hurricanes rise, an' rise every wind, They'll ne'er mak' a tempest like that in my mind; Though loudest o' thunders on louder waves roar, That's naething like leaving my love on the shore. To leave thee behind me my heart is sair pained; By ease that's inglorious no fame can be gained; Willie and Helen An' beauty an' love's the reward o' the brave, 921 Then glory, my Jeanie, maun plead my excuse; WILLIE AND HELEN "WHAREFORE sou'd ye talk o' love, Wharefore sou'd ye talk o' love Whan ye say the sea maun twain us?" "It's no because my love is light, "O Willy, I can caird an' spin, I hae a' the pearls I'm heedin', "Will it be time to praise this cheek Will it be time to talk o' love Whan cauld an' care hae quenched it?” He's laid ae han' about her waist--- The ither's held to heaven; An' his luik was like the luik o' man Wha's heart in twa is riven. Hew Ainslie (1792-1878] ABSENCE WITH leaden foot Time creeps along While Delia is away: With her, nor plaintive was the song, Ah, envious Power! reverse my doom; Strain every nerve, stretch every plume, And rest them when she's here! Richard Jago [1715-1781] "MY MOTHER BIDS ME BIND MY HAIR" My mother bids me bind my hair With bands of rosy hue; Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare, And lace my bodice blue! "For why," she cries, "sit still and weep, While others dance and play?" Alas! I scarce can go, or creep, 'Tis sad to think the days are gone When those we love were near! I sit upon this mossy stone, And sigh when none can hear: And while I spin my flaxen thread, The village seems asleep, or dead, Now Lubin is away! Anne Hunter [1742-1821) "BLOW HIGH! BLOW LOW!" BLOW high, blow low! let tempest tear The mainmast by the board! My heart (with thoughts of thee, my dear! The Siller Croun Shall brave all danger, scorn all fear, To be once more Aloft, while mountain-high we go, To think on thee. And this shall be my Song, Blow high, blow low! let tempest tear. And on that night (when all the crew And drink their sweethearts and their wives), And think of thee. And, as the ship toils through the sea, The burden of my Song shall be, Blow high, blow low! let tempest tear. 923 Charles Dibdin [1745-1814] THE SILLER CROUN "AND ye sall walk in silk attire, And siller ha'e to spare, Gin ye'll consent to be his bride, Nor think o' Donald mair." Oh, wha wad buy a silken goun The mind wha's every wish is pure Far dearer is to me; And ere I'm forced to break my faith, |