Page:Merry Muses of Caledonia.djvu/95

From Wikisource
Jump to: navigation, search
This page has been validated.

( 89 )


But ah! at last she prov'd wi' bairn,
 An' sat baith sad and dull,
An' I wha was as much concerned
 Looked e'en just like a fool;
Her lovely eyes wi' tears ran o'er,
 Repentin' her rash sin;
An' ay she cursed the fatal hour
 That e'er she loot me in.
 
But who could from such beauty go,
 Or yet from Nelly part;
I lov'd her dear, an' cou'dna leave
 The charmer of my heart,
We wedded and conceal'd our crime,
 Then all was weel again,
An' she doth bless the happy night
 She rose an' loot me in




GIE THE LASS HER FAIRING.

Tune"Cauld Kail in Aberdeen."

An old fragment.

O gie the lass her fairing, lad,
 O gie the lass her fairing;
And something else she'll gie to you,
 That's wallow worth the wearing.
Syne coup her o'er amang the creels,
 When ye hae ta'en your brandy,
The mair you bang, the less she squeals,
 So hey for houghmagandie.

Then gie the lass her fairing, lad,
 O gie the lass her fairing,
And she'll gie you a hairy thing,
 And of it be not sparing,
Lay her o'er amang the creels,
 And bar the door wi' baith your heels,
The mair she gets, the less she squeals,
 So hey for houghmagandie.