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7
Last morning how sweet to see
The little lambkins play,
Whilst my dear lad, alang wi' me,
Did kindly walk this way;
On yon green bank wild flow'rs he pu’d,
To busk my bosom braw;
Street, sweet he talk'd, and aft he vow’d;
But now he's far awa’,
But now, &c.
O gentle peace return again,
Bring Jockey to my arms,
True dangers on the raging main,
An’ cruel wars alarms.
Gin e’er we meet, nae mair we'll part,
While we hae breath to draw;
Nor will I sing, wi’ acking heart,
My Jockey’s far awa’.
My Jockey’s far, &c.
Meg o' the Mill.
ken ye what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten,
An' ken ye what Meg o' the Mill has gotten?
She has gotten a coof wi’ a claut o’ siller,
And broken the heart o’ the barley miller.
