6
‘Tis but in vain,—
I mean not to upbraid you boys,—
‘Tis but in vain
For soldiers to complain,
Should next campaign
Send us to him who made us, boys,
We’re free from pain,
But, if we remain,
A bottle ann kind landlady
Cure all again.
the lassie i loe best of a'
Hae ye seen in the calm dewy morning,
The red-breast wild warbling sae clear
Or the low dwelling, snow breasted gowan,
Sur-charged wi’ mild e’ering's soft tear,
O then ye hae seen my dear lassie,
The lassie I' loe best of a’
But far frae the hame o’ my lassie,
I’m monie a lang mile awa.
Her hair is she wing o’ the blackbird,
Her eye Is the eye o’ the dove,
Her lips are the red blushing rose-bud,
Her bosom’s the palace of love.
Tho’ green be thy banks O sweet Clutha,
Thy beauties ne’er charm me ava,
