(8)
I ken'd that I cou’d never fail;
But she prin’d the dish-clout to his tail,
And cool'd him wi' a water-pail,
And kept her bawbee.
Then Johny cam', a lad o’ sense,
Altho' he had na mony pence,
He took young Jenny to the spence,
Wi’ her to crack a wee:
Now Johny was a clever chiel,
And here his suit he press’d sae weel,
That Jenny's heart grew saft as jeel,
And she birl'd her bawbee.
MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTLAND's
Farewel to Calais.
Farewell, sweet seat of innocence & mirth,
Where first my breast to youthful joys beat true:
O France! thou dearest region of the earth
And you, my early blissful days, adieu!
The bark that seems to bear me thus away.
Yet peans of me, poor exile, but a part;
In thy lov’d haunts, where I was wont to stray,
I've left the prime affections of my heart.
These still are thine, nor am I quite bereft,
If but with these thy fostering smiles agree;
For still recurring to its pledges left.
My sympathizing soul shall tend to thee.
FINIS.
