Bessie’s Lamentation.
[Tune, "Jessie the Fower o' Dumblane." This and the two following songs were first published in "The Pocket Encyclopedia of Song," Glasgow, 1816.]
By the side o' yon river, as Bessie sat sighin',
Lamentin' her Jamie frae her far awa',
The last sound o' the bell on the night breeze was dyin',
An' careless aroun' her the dew-drops did fa';
O! welcome, she cried, thou sweet hour of devotion!
O rise, bonnie moon, a young lassie does ca';
Shine clearly, an' witness my full heart's emotion;
I'll think on my Jamie, though he be awa'.
O! gin he was here, or gin I had caen wi' him:—
But whisht my fond heart, he will quickly return;
My arms shall enfauld him; soon, soon shall I see him,
An' ne'er on this bank again lanely I'll mourn.
An' thou, bonnie moon, whast beheld my sad wailin',
O tell it to Jamie, tell it him a';
While gazin' on thee, owre the deep as he's sailin',
O! fair be the breezes aroun' him that blaw.
How sweet is't to see thee shine clearly and bonnie,
On the gay fiel's o' harst, or the silvery snaw—
How sweet are these scenes! but far sweeter than onie
The lad to me dearest, though he be awa':
For what to me's Nature, though varied in feature;
Without him—nae joy can it gi'e me ava:—
O! come then, my laddie, O come, binna later,
For drearie's the time whan frae me ye're awa'.
Fair Helen.
[Tune, "Humours of Glen."]
The bright rose o' simmer the brier was adornin',
An' sweet fell the perfume encirclin' the flower,
An' rich on its leaves hung the tears o' the mornin',
An' saft sigh'd the gale thro' the brier-shaded bower:
But Helen, fair Helen, the early dawn courtin',
Appear'd, an' now pale grew the rose's deep dye;
When rival'd Aurora beheld the nymph sportin',
She mantled her face in a fold o' the sky.
Enraptured I saw her sae bloomin' an' bonnie,
That love bade the full tide o' fervour to flow;
But blame na my ardour, for tell me could onie
Resist the fond impulse—ah! tell me? oh no.—
Though calm was the hour, and delicious the pleasure.
When viewin' the beauties o' Nature sae fair.
Beside lovely Helen, 'twas joy without measure,
The fairest, the dearest, the sweetest was there!
A boon may I venture to beg frae thee. Heaven?
Amid a' my care, an' my toil, an' my fear,
Be the heart-warmin' impulse o' frien'ship me given,
To live in her smile, or be worthy her tear:
An' never, thou dread power. Adversity, bend her;
Frae sadness an' sorrow, oh! aye be she free:
That ilka true bliss may for ever attend her,—
Is the prayer o' the poet, dear Helen, for thee.
The Lass o’ Netherlee.
[Netherlee is four miles south-west of Glasgow.]
Auld farran' cantie bodie,
Cam' ye frae the Netherlee?
Auld farran' cantie bodie,
Did you there my lassie see?
Kind, an' blythe, an' sweet as onie,
Fairer never can ye see;
In face an' form my lassie's bonnie,
Dimpled love sits in her e'e.
Auld farran', &c.
Hair like the mornin's gouden beam,
On the tapmaist mountain hie;
An' oh! whan dressd in tartan sheen,
Beauty's power is ill to dree.
Auld farran', &c.
Her lips wad mak' the cherry blush
Deeper red—though red it be;
An' weel like I the dew to brush
Frae her lips sae sweet an' wee.
Auld farran', &c.
