Ha’e ye seen.
[Air, "Ha'e ye seen in the calm dewy mornin'."]
Ha'e ye seen in the chill-fa'in' gloamin'
The wild rose, sae droopin' and pale,
Revive in the smile o' the mornin'
And breathe a' its sweets on the gale:—
Sae I ha'e aft seen the sad bosom
By gloomy despondency prest,
Revive at the saft voice o' friendship,
And hush a' its sorrows to rest.
Sae aft, by the world forsaken,
I've seen the worn countenance smile,
Wi' light that had long been extinguish'd,
An' joy that had beam'd to beguile.
O ever, on life's changin' journey,
Be mine the sweet duty to shed,
The timely refreshin' o' firiendship
On the droopin' an' desolate head!
J. M.
Happy Friendship.
[This song is attributed to Burns, but without much certainty.]
Here around the ingle bleezing,
Wha sae happy and sae free;
Though the northern wind blaws freezing,
Frien'ship warms baith you and me.
Happy we are a' thegither,
Happy we'll be yin an' a',
Time shall see us a' the blither
Ere we rise to gang awa'.
See the miser o'er his treasure
Gloating wi' a greedy e'e!
Can he feel the glow o' pleasure
That around us here we see?
Can the peer, in silk and ermine,
Ca' his conscience half his own:
His claes are spun an' edged wi' vermin,
Though he stan' afore a throne!
Thus then let us a' be tassing
Aff oxir stoups o' gen'rous flame;
An' while roun' the board 'tis passing,
Raise a sang in friendship's name.
Frien'ship mak's us a' mair happy,
Frien'ship gi'es us a' delight,
Frien'ship consecrates the drappie,
Frien'ship brings us here to-night.
Happy we've been a' thegither,
Happy we've been yin and a',
Time shall find us a' the blither,
When we rise to gang awa'.
They’re a’ teasing me.
[Words by Kirby.—Music by Latour.]
O wha is he I lo'e sae weel?
Wha has my heart an' a'?
O wha is he? 'tis sair to tell—
He's o'er the seas awa'.
There's Charlie, he's a sodger lad,
And, Davie, blythe is he,
And Willie, in his tartan plaid,
They're a' a' teasing me.
O they're a' tease teasing.
They're a' a' teasing me,
They're a' tease teasing,
O they're a' a' teasing me.
There's Carl, the chief o' Daftne glen,
And he has land and store,
With flowery mead, and shady fen,
And siller o'er and o'er.
Quoth he, sweet lass, I'll marry thee,
(Yestreen in yonder shaw,)
And thou my ain true bride shall be,
And queen o' Daftne ha'.
O they're a', &c.
But when my Jamie comes again,
Young Carl will then descry
That siller is but empty gain,
To hearts no gowd can buy.
My Jamie's brave, my Jamie's braw,
My Jamie's a' to me,
And though his siller store be sma',
Yet married we will be.
For they're a', &c.
