37
Ye'll break my heart. ye little birds,
that wanton on you flow'ry thorn;
Ye mind me of departed joys,
departed never to return.
Aft have I roam'd by bonny Doon,
to ſee the roſe and Woodbine twine,
Whar ilka bird ſang of it's love,
and ſae did wi' glee of mine.
Wi' lightſome heart I pu'd a roſe,
the ſweeteſt on it's thorny tree.
But my falſe love has flown the roſe,
and oh! he's left the thorn wi' me.
THE SAILOR'S ADIEU.
THE topſail ſhiver in the wind,
the ſhip caſts to ſea;
But yet my ſoul my heart. my mind,
are. Mary, moor'd with thee:
For tho thy Sailor's bound afar,
Still love ſhall be his leading ſtar.
Should landsmen flatter when we're ſail'd,
O doubt their artful tales;
No gallant Sailor ever ſail'd,
if Cupid fill'd the ſails:
Thou art the compaſs of my ſoul,
Which ſteers my heart from pole to pole.
