The Scottish songs - National Library of Scotland

The Scottish songs - National Library of Scotland The Scottish songs - National Library of Scotland

06.05.2013 Views

650 ; ! ; Croonin ower some simple sang O' her that's far awa. Now I downa bide to leuk Ayont the cheerless ingle neuk, Where aft I read the haly beuk To her that's far awa. Haste, my dearest ! haste ye hame, Come, my ain beloved dame ! Ferry OAver loch, sea, and stream, And ne'er gae mair awa SONG. JOHN GRIEVE. Tune—Po/ifctr^ on the Green. 'TwAS summer tide ; the cushat sang His am'rous roundelay And dews, like cluster'd diamonds, hang On flower and leafy spray. The coverlet of gloaming grey On every thing was seen. When lads and lasses took their way To Polwart on the Green. The spirit-moving dance went on, And harmless revelry Of young hearts all in unison, Wi' love's soft witcherie Their hall the open-daisied lea, While frae the welkin sheen. The moon shone brightly on the glee At Polwart on the Green.

651 ; ; ; Dark een and raven curls were there, And cheeks of rosy hue, And finer forms, without compare, Than pencil ever drew But ane, wi' een of bonnie blue, A' hearts confess'd the queen, And pride of grace and beauty too, At Polwart on the Green. The miser hoards his golden store, And kings dominion gain While others in the battle's roar For honour's trifles strain. Away, such pleasures ! false and vain ; Far dearer mine have been, Among the lowly rural train, At Polwart on the Green. MAGGIE'S TOCHER. Tune—Maggie's Tocher. The meal was dear short syne We buckled us a' tliegither : And Maggie was in her prime. When Willie made courtship till her. Twa pistols charged beguess. To gie the courting shot And syne came ben the lass, Wi' swats drawn frae the butt. He speir'd at the gudeman, And syne at Giles the mither, An ye wad gie's a bit land. We'd buckle us e'en thegither. :

650<br />

; ! ;<br />

Croonin ower some simple sang<br />

O' her that's far awa.<br />

Now I downa bide to leuk<br />

Ayont the cheerless ingle neuk,<br />

Where aft I read the haly beuk<br />

To her that's far awa.<br />

Haste, my dearest ! haste ye hame,<br />

Come, my ain beloved dame !<br />

Ferry OAver loch, sea, and stream,<br />

And ne'er gae mair awa<br />

SONG.<br />

JOHN GRIEVE.<br />

Tune—Po/ifctr^ on the Green.<br />

'TwAS summer tide ; the cushat sang<br />

His am'rous roundelay<br />

And dews, like cluster'd diamonds, hang<br />

On flower and leafy spray.<br />

<strong>The</strong> coverlet <strong>of</strong> gloaming grey<br />

On every thing was seen.<br />

When lads and lasses took their way<br />

To Polwart on the Green.<br />

<strong>The</strong> spirit-moving dance went on,<br />

And harmless revelry<br />

Of young hearts all in unison,<br />

Wi' love's s<strong>of</strong>t witcherie<br />

<strong>The</strong>ir hall the open-daisied lea,<br />

While frae the welkin sheen.<br />

<strong>The</strong> moon shone brightly on the glee<br />

At Polwart on the Green.

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