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In fight Tom Starboard knew no fear,
Nay when he'd lost an arm resigned,
Said, Love for Nan his only dear
Had saved his life, and fate was kind.
The war being ended, Tom returned,
His lost limb serv'd him for a joke,
For still his manly bosom burned
With love—his heart was heart of oak.
Nay when he'd lost an arm resigned,
Said, Love for Nan his only dear
Had saved his life, and fate was kind.
The war being ended, Tom returned,
His lost limb serv'd him for a joke,
For still his manly bosom burned
With love—his heart was heart of oak.
Ashore in haste Tom nimbly ran
To cheer his dear departed bride,
But false report had brought to Nan,
Six months before that Tom had died.
With grief she daily pined away,
No remedy her life could save,
And Tom arrived the very day
They laid his Nancy in her grave.
To cheer his dear departed bride,
But false report had brought to Nan,
Six months before that Tom had died.
With grief she daily pined away,
No remedy her life could save,
And Tom arrived the very day
They laid his Nancy in her grave.
THE LASS O' GLENSHEE.
On bonny day, when the heather was blooming,
and the silent hill burn'd wi' the sore laden bee,
I met a fair maid as I hameward was riding,
a herding her sheep on the hills o' Glenshee.
The rose in her cheek it was gem'd wi' a dimple,
and the silent hill burn'd wi' the sore laden bee,
I met a fair maid as I hameward was riding,
a herding her sheep on the hills o' Glenshee.
The rose in her cheek it was gem'd wi' a dimple,
