The Scottish songs - National Library of Scotland

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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.
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