3
The owls from the battlement cry,
hollow winds seem to murmur around,
O MARY! prepare thee to die,
my blood it runs cold at the souad.
THE SOGER LADDIE.
MY soger laddie is over the sea,
and he will bring gold and money to me;
And when he comes hame, he'll make me a lady,
my blessing gang with my soger laidie.
My doughty laddie is handsome and brave,
and can as a soger and lover behave ;
True to his country, to love he is steady,
there's few to compare with my soger laddie.
Shield him, ye angles frae death in alarms
return him with laurels to my langing arms,
Syne free all my care ye'll peleasantly free me,
when back to my wishes my soger ye gie me.
O soon may his honours bloom fair on his brow,
as quickly they must, if he get his cue:
For in noble actions his courage is ready.
which makes me delight in my soger laddie.
