THE LOVE-SICK MAID. Air-" The Campbells are comin'." CHORUS. SAW ye my laddie as crossed ye the lea? O saw ye my laddie as crossed ye the lea? Now joke nae mair, Jamie, for pain ye but gie; And tell me, oh tell, where he's wandered frae me. His troosers are black, and his jacket is blue, Then saw ye, &c. His dark hazel e'e and his love-winnin' smile O bliss o' my bliss, and my pride and desire, But in his young fancy his Helen's the wale, The mair I think o' him the mair am I taen, O lang hae I lo'ed him, and evermair will; cling, Till death to a close our devotion shall bring. Then saw ye, &c. But wheisht, O my heart-faith he's comin' at last: That's surely his whistle-oh yes, has he passed Yon green holly bush? and now, Jamie, fareweel; Yet the scene i' the thicket, O never reveal. BLUE-EYED MARY. Air-"Blue-Eyed Mary." THROUGH yon green-wood let me ramble, 'Mang Nature's minstrels singing, And climb Tweed's bonnie banks and braes, Where the wee wild flowers are springing. How cauld and strange the warld to me! Alane, O let me tarry, To sigh unseen, and weep, alas! My absent blue-eyed Mary! Thrice sacred scenes, to memory dear, Oft by yon wimplin' burnie, oft There in each consecrated shade, O joys unmingled, transports dear, Ah, little dreamt this withered heart, Its life, its hope, its all, O heaven, But vain, alas! I linger here, To a' I lo'ed sae dearly: Thy sainted room who e'er shall fill, My absent blue-eyed Mary? THE HIRSEL YET FOR ME. WAY! ye orient groves, away! Where fragrant citrons bloom; The orange, lime, and myrtle gay, Exhale their sweet perfume; Nor name those balmy spicy dells, Though florulent they be, Their fairy charms let others sing, The Hirsel yet for me! Elysian spot, while lasts a string, My lyre I'll tune to thee. How sweet to roam thy sunny glades, Their lays from every tree, The Hirsel yet for me! Unrivalled Flora's loved retreat, |