We may be poor, Robie and I;
Light is the burden love lays on:
Content and love brings peace and joy;
What mair ha'e queens upon a throne?
The Breist-knots.
[This is an abridged version of a long song which appears in the third volume of Johnson's Museum, in the broad Buchan dialect, by an anonymous correspondent. Breist-knots formed at one time an important ornament of female attire. Mr. Sinclair, the well-known vocalist, was instrumental in bringing the present version of the song into public repute.]
Hey the bonnie, how the bonnie,
Hey the bonnie breist-knots!
Tight and bonnie were they a',
When they got on their breist-knots.
There was a bridal in this town,
And till't the lasses a' were boun',
Wi' mankie facings on their gowns,
And some o' them had breist-knots.
At nine o'clock the lads convene,
Some clad in blue, some clad in green,
Wi' glancin' buckles in their shoon,
And flowers upon their waistcoats.
Forth cam' the wives a' wi' a phrase,
And wished the lassie happy days;
And meikle thocht they o' her claes,
And 'specially the briest-knots.
Bonnie Peggy.
[John Sim.—Air, "Bonnie lassie, O."]
O, we aft ha'e met at e'en, bonnie Peggy, O,
On the banks of Cart sae green, bonnie Peggy, O,
Where the waters smoothly rin,
Far aneath the roaring lin,
Far frae busy strife and din, bonnie Peggy, O.
When the lately crimson west, bonnie Peggy, O,
In her darker robe was drest, bonnie Peggy, O,
And a sky of azure blue,
Deck'd with stars of golden hue,
Rose majestic to the view, bonnie Peggy, O.
When the sound of flute or horn, bonnie Peggy, O,
On the gale of evening borne, bonnie Peggy, O,
We have heard in echoes die,
While the wave that rippl'd by,
Sung a soft and sweet reply, bonnie Peggy, O.
Then how happy would we rove, bonnie Peggy, O,
Whilst thou blushing own'd thy love, bonnie Peggy, O,
Whilst thy quickly throbbing breast
To my beating heart I press'd,
Ne'er was mortal half so blest, bonnie Peggy, O.
Now, alas! these scenes are o'er, bonnie Peggy, O;
Now, alas! we meet no more, bonnie Peggy, O,
Oh! ne'er again, I ween,
Will we meet at summer e'en,
On the banks of Cart sae green, bonnie Peggy, O.
Yet hadst thou been true to me, bonnie Peggy, O,
As I still ha'e been to thee, bonnie Peggy, O,
Then with bosom, O how light,
Had I hail'd the coming night,
And yon evening star so bright, bonnie Peggy, O.
The Unhappy Father.
[Alexander Laing.]
Ah! lassie, I think wi' a sair broken heart,
On the licht happy time that's awa';
When smiling ye sat on your fond mither's knee,
An' prattl'd an' lisped—"mamma,"—
On the blythe happy days when ye play'd on the green,
An' when I unyoked my team:
How ye left a' your play-things an' totter'd an' ran,
An' met me at e'en coming hame.
O, then I was happy, an' fond were the hopes
Affection sae feelingly drew;
The fears o' the future that vext me at times,
