Page:Highland piper's advice to drinkers (2).pdf/6

Rh ’Tis not Maria’s whispering call:— ’Tis but the halmybalmy [sic] breathing gale, Mixt with some warbler’s dying fall, The dewy star of eve to bail.

It is Maria’s voice I hear, So calls the wood-lark in the grove, His little faithfull mate to cheer, At once ’tis music— and ’tis love.

And art thou come, and art thou true? O welcome dear to love and me; And let us all our vows renew, Along the flowery banks of Cree.

Och hey Jonny lad! Ye er no sae kind’s ye soud, hae been; Och hey, Johnny lad! Ye didna keep your tryst yestreen; I waited lang beside the wood, Sae wae an’ weary a my lane; Och hey, Johnny lad! It was a waefu nght yestreen.

I looked by the whinny knowe, I looked by the firs sae green