Some were blythe and some were sad,
And some they play'd at Blind Harrie;
But suddenly up-started the auld carle,
I redd ye, good folks, tak' tent o' me.
Up gat Kate that sat i' the nook,
Vow kimmer, and how do ye?
Up he gat, and ca't her limmer,
And ruggit and tuggit her cockernonie.
They houkit his grave in Duket's kirk-yard,
E'en far frae the companie:
But when they were gaun to lay him i' the yird,
The feint a dead nor dead was he.
And when they brought him to Duket's kirk-yard,
He dunted on the kist, the boards did flee:
And when they were gaun to put him i' the yird,
In fell the kist, and out lap he.
He cried, I'm cauld, I'm unco cauld;
Fu' fast ran the fock, and fu' fast ran he:
But he was first hame at his ain ingle side,
And he helped to drink his ain dirgie.
She left us.
[William Knox.]
She left us when spring-time
Had painted the plain,
And promis'd in autumn
To see us again.
Long, long seem'd the summer
When she was away,
And we sigh'd for the woodlands
And flowers to decay.
The tree at our window
Had scatter'd its leaves,
And the swallow had left us
That sung from the eaves,
When we thought of her promise
To see us again,
And long'd for her coming;
But all was in vain.
She left us in spring-time
In health and in joy,
But the breezes of autumn
Had blown to destroy.
We saw the long fun'ral
Come over the plain,
And the voice that could cheer us
Can cheer not again.
Mary Gill.
[Patrick Knox.—Here first printed.]
Ha'e ye na seen the miller's maid,
The bonnie Mary Gill?
Wha wins below the braes o' Braid,
Fu' like a lily newly spread,
In shelter o' the hill.
I wish it had na been my fate,
To look on her mysel';
For that put me in sic a state,
That peace or rest I canna get,
Sin' meetin' Mary Gill.
I dander'd down, the ither nicht
Fu' little dreadin' ill,
Whan my heart's ease whuff'd out like licht,
An' left me in a pretty plicht,
Wi' bonnie Mary Gill!
I first felt saucy at the quean,
An' tried, wi' a' my skill,
To think that fairer I had seen,
While aye my twa unruly een
Would glance at Mary Gill.
Then something gaed about my heart,
That made it saft an' still;
I grew fu' anxious to depart,
But sat unable an' inert,
Bewitch'd by Mary Gill!
Neist raise a flutter in my breast,
I kent na how to quell;
I hitch'd about, an' could na rest,
An' fearin' notice, thocht it best
To part frae Mary Gill.
