The gushing of the waterfall,
The sunshine of the sky;
The bloom, the balm, and more than all,
The sparkle of her eye,
Brought to my heart a blissful tide
That drove all care away,
And I was happy at her side,
On yonder sunny brae.
'Twas then I breathed my fondest vow,
My deepest love revealed,
I kiss'd her lip, her cheek, her brow,
It could not be concealed.
No sweeter scene my eyes shall see,
Though far my steps should stray,
There's not a spot so dear to me
As yonder sunny brae.
I canna sleep.
[William Anderson, author of "Landscape Lyrics," &c. Written in 1833. Printed here for the first time.]
I canna sleep a wink, lassie,
Whan I gang to bed at night,
But still o' thee I think, lassie,
Till morning sheds its light.
I lie and think o' thee, lassie,
And I toss frae side to side,
Like a vessel on the sea, lassie,
When stormy is the tide.
My heart is no my ain, lassie,
It winna bide wi' me,
Like a birdie it has gane, lassie,
To nestle saft wi' thee.
I canna lure it back, lassie,
Sae keep it to yoursel',
But, oh! it sure will brak, lassie,
If you dinna use it well.
Whare the treasure is, they say, lassie,
The spirit lingers there,
And mine has fled away, lassie,
You needna ask me where:
I marvel oft if rest, lassie,
On my eyes and heart wad bide,
If I thy troth possess'd, lassie,
And thou wert at my side.
The Star of Glengary.
The red moon is up o'er the moss-covered mountain;
The hour is at hand when I promised to rove
With the turf-cutter's daughter by Logan's fair water,
And tell her how truly her Donald can love!
I ken there's the miller, wi' plenty o' siller,
Would fain win a glance frae her beautiful e'e,
But my ain bonnie Mary—the star of Glengary—
Keeps a' her sweet smiles an' saft kisses for me!
'Tis lang since we first trod the Highlands the-gither,
Twa frolicksome bairns gaily starting the deer,
When I ca'd her my life—my bonnie wee wife—
And ne'er knew sic joy as when Mary was near;
And still she's the blossom I wear in my bosom—
A blossom I'll cherish an' wear till I dee,
For my ain bonnie Mary—the star o' Glengary!
She's health, an' she's wealth, an' she's a' good to me!
I’m naebody noo.
[William Anderson, author of "Landscape Lyrics." Printed here for the first time.]
I'm naebody noo, though in days that are gane,
Whan I'd hooses, and lands, and gear o' my ain,
There war' mony to flatter, and mony to praise,
And wha but mysel' was sae proud in those days!
Ah! then roun' my table wad visitors thrang,
Wha laugh'd at my joke, and applauded my sang,
Though the tane had nae point, and the tither nae glee,
But of coorse they war' grand when comin' frae me!
Whan I'd plenty to gi'e, o' my cheer and my crack,
There war' plenty to come, and wi' joy to partak',
But whanever the water grew scant at the well,
I was welcome to drink all alane by mysel'.
Sae lang as my bottle was ready and free,
Friends in dozens I had who then crooded to prie,
They sat ower the toddy until they war' fou,
Noo I drink by mysel', for I'm naebody noo.
