For when we were married our cleeding was thin,
And poortith, ye ken, made me eident to spin,
'Twas fain love o' you that first gart me begin,
And blessings ha'e followed the spinning o't.
When mornings were cauld, and the keen frost and snaw
Were blawin', I mind the beginning o't,
And je gaed to wark, be it frost or be't thaw,
My task was nae less at the spinning o't:
But now we've a pantry baith muckle and fu'
O' ilka thing gude for to gang in the mou';
A barrel o' ale, wi' some maut for to brew,
To mak' us forget the beginning o't.
And when winter comes back, wi' the snell hail and rain,
Nae mair I sit down to the spinning o't,
Nor you gang to toil in the cauld fields again,
As little think on the beginning o't:
O' sheep we ha'e scores, and o' kye twenty-five,
Far less we ha'e seen wad made us fu' blythe;
But thrift and industry maks poor fouk to thrive,
A clear proof o' that is the spinning o't,
Although at our marriage our stock was but sma',
And heartless and hard the beginning o't,
When ye was engaged the owsen to ca',
And first my young skill tried the spinning o't;
But now we can dress in our plaidies sae sma',
Fu' neat and fu' clean gae to kirk or to ha',
And look aye as blythe as the best o' them a',
Sic luck has been o' the beginning o't.
The bud on the brier.
[Tune, "The Campbells are comin'."]
The bud on the brier it is bonnie enough,
An' sae is the flower on the ha', lass:
How sweet shines the red setting sun in the stream,
But thou art the sweetest of a', lass.
The laverock on the lea, lass,
The lintie on the tree, lass,
The mavis aft renews her sang,
But nane o" them sings like thee, lass.
The meeting o' friends may be happy, I own,
An' blinks o' content gi'e us a', lass;
But rapture ne'er comes frae the e'e to the heait,
Save only when love gi'es the law, lass.
The bottle has its charms, lass,
Which toil and care disarm, lass,
But lasting pleasure ne'er is found,
Till love the bosom warm, lass.
In conqu'ring kingdoms let tyrants unite,
An' patriots fight to be free, lass;
But conqu'ring canna gi'e them the delight,
I ha'e being conquer'd by thee, lass.
For freedom's but a name, lass,
And slavery's just the same, lass,
I'll wear thy chain wi' a' my heart,
Gif ye will be my ain, lass.
The love-melting kiss that I steal frae thy. lips,
Will keep me aye constant and true, lass,
An' ilk coming day be mair blest than the past,
An' ilka endearment renew, lass.
Then time may flee like wind, lass,
Its loss we ne'er shall find, lass;
The rose that fades upon thy cheek,
Will flourish in thy mind, lass.
Daintie Davie
[For the original Daintie Davie, see page 98.]
The lasses fain wad ha'e frae me
A sang, to keep them a' in glee,
While ne'er a ane I ha'e to gi'e,
But only Daintie Davie.
I learn'd it early in my youth,
When barley bannocks caused a drouth:
Whar cronies met to weet their mouth,
Our sang was Daintie Davie.
O, Daintie Davie is the thing;
I never kent a cantie spring,
That e'er deserved the Highland fling,
Sae weel as Daintie Davie.
When friends an' folk at bridals meet,
Their drouthie mou's and craigs to weet,
The story canna be complete
Without they've Daintie Davie.
Sae lasses tune your spinnets weel,
An' lilt it up wi' a' your skill,
There's nae strathspey nor Highland reel,
Comes up to Daintie Davie.
O, Daintie Davie, &c.
