Page:Companion of mirth.pdf/12

12 Sae let them say, or let them do, 'Tis a' ane to me; For I have vow'd to love you, lad, Until the day I die. But let them, &c.

The Way-worn Traveller.

FAINT and wearily the way worn traveller, Plods uncheerily, afraid to stop: Wandering drearly a sad unraveller, Of the mazes t'ward the mountain top, Doubting, fearing, While his course he's steering, Cottages appearing As he's nigh to drop:

Oh! how briskly then the way worn traveller, Trades the mazes t'ward the mountain's top. Phough so melancholy day has passed by, 'Twould be folly now to think on't more:

Blyth and jolly be the cag holds fast by, As he's sitting at the goat-herd's door, Eating. qu ffing At past labour laughing, Better, far by half, in Spirits than before; Oh! how merrily the rested traveller, Seems when sitting at the goat-berd's door.