Sair gloom'd his dark brow, blood-red his cheek grew,
Wild flash'd the fire frae his red rolling e'e!—
Ye's rue sair this morning your boasts and your scorning:
Defend ye, fause traitor! fu' loudly ye lie.
Awa' wi' beguiling, cried the youth, smiling:—
Aff went the bonnet; the lint-white locks flee;
The belted plaid fa'ing, her white bosom shawing,
Fair stood the lov'd maid wi' the dark rolling e'e!
Is it my wee thing! is it my ain thing!
Is it my true love here that I see!
O Jamie forgi'e me; your heart's constant to me;
I'II never mair wander, dear laddie, frae thee!
Hey, my bonnie wee lassie.
[From "The Storm and other Poems, by Francis Bennoch." The author entitles his song "Natural Philosophy."]
"Hey, my bonnie wee lassie,
Blythe and cheerie wee Lassie,
Will ye wed a canty carle,
Bonnie, bonnie wee lassie?
"I ha'e sheep an' I ha'e kye,
I ha'e wheat an' I ha'e rye,
An' heaps of siller, lass, forbye,
That ye shall spen' wi' me, lassie!
Hey, my bonnie wee lassie,
Blythe and cheerie wee lassie,
Will ye wed a canty carle,
Bonnie, bonnie wee lassie?
"Ye shall dress in damasks fine,
My gowd and gear shall a' be thine,
And I to ye be ever kind,
Say,—will ye marry me, lassie?
Hey, my bonnie wee lassie,
BIythe and cheerie wee lassie,
Will ye wed a canty carle,—
Bonnie, smiling wee lassie."
"Gae hame, auld man, an' darn your hose,
Fill up your lanky sides wi' brose,
An' at the ingle warm your nose,
But come na courtin' me, carle.
O ye clavering auld carle,
Silly, clavering auld carle,
The hawk an' doo shall pair, I trow,
Before I pair wi' ye, carle!
"Your heart is cauld an' hard as stanes,
Ye ha'e nae marrow in your banes,
An' siller canna buy the brains
That pleasure gi'es to me, carle!
O ye tottering auld carle,
Silly, clavering auld carle,
The hound an' bare may seek ae lair,
But I'll no sleep wi' ye, carle.
"I winna share your gowd wi' ye,
Your withering heart an' watery e'e;
In death I'd sooner shrouded be,
Than wedded to ye, auld carle!
O ye tottering auld carle,
Silly, clavering auld carle,
When roses blaw on wreaths o' snaw,
I'll bloom upon your breast, carle!
"But there's a lad, an' I'm his ain,
May Heaven blessings on him rain!
Though plackless, he is unco fain,
And he 's the man for me, carle!
O youth an' age can ne'er agree;
Though rich, you're no the man for me.
Gae hame, auld carle, prepare to die;
Pray Heaven to be your bride, carle!"
The Bridal Day.
[Words by W. Paul. Composed by J. P. Clarke.]
O, I maun braid my yellow hair,
An' I maun busk me braw,
An' I maun to the greenwood gang
Whatever may befa';
An' I maun say the word at e'en,
That brings me weel or wae,
For Jamie press'd me sair yestreen,
To set the bridal day.
O little does my father think
That he maun ware his gear,
And little does my minnie think,
The trysting hour is near;
But yonder blinks the e'ening star
O'er Roslyn castle gray,
An' I maun to the greenwood gang,
To set the bridal day.
