I LO'ED A LASSIE YOUNG AND FAIR. Air-" For a' that, and a' that." LO'ED a lassie young and fair, Her lily hand, and a' that, And sin' our merry bridal e'en, For a' that, and a' that, What cared we then for a' that? Though we hae little warldly gear, Hae aften wiped for a' that For a' that, and a' that, A neebor's cares, and a' that; We've made our ain wi' helpin' hand, Yet thrave nae waur for a' that. What's a' the warld?-a passin' show; Without content, and a' that: A conscience clear, a hame to cheer, P WE HAD A ROWTH O' CLINK YESTREEN. SE a' had rowth o' clink yestreen, Sae sweet we preed the "tappet hen," CHORUS. But whan the morn began to daw, And ilka back was at the wa', We could nae raise the jorum. Sae where were a' our fun and spree, Syne sad was Robin, mad was Robin, Wha damned our drouth as mair we asked, As mony's dune afore him. Sae whan the morn, &c. We did our best without avail, But surly Robin's, churlish Robin's, Ance feelin' heart had turned to mail, And cooled the love we bore him: Sae up we gat, and swore an aith, That friends wi' Robin, menseless Robin, We ne'er would be till our last breath, Nor wi' him hae a splorum. Sae whan the morn, &c. DARK LOWERS THE MIST ON THE WHITE TOWERING CHEVIOT. Tune "The Braes of Gleniffer." ARK lowers the mist on the white towering Cauld drifts the snaw across the bleak plain; I sighed the farewell to my laddie that's gane. How dowie and cheerless and springless the bosom; That hour that he left me, can e'er I forget it, And oh the fond look, the last o' my lover, I ne'er but in sadness can pass the auld stile. |