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By Oghtertyre grows the aik,

On Yarrow braes the birken shaw ;

But Phemie was a bonnier lass

Than braes o' Yarrow ever saw.

Blithe, blithe, &c.

Her looks were like a flower in May-

Her smile was like a simmer morn;

She tripped by the banks of Erne

As light's a bird upon a thorn.

Blithe, blithe, &c.

Her bonnie face it was as meeK

As ony lamb upon the lea;

The evening sun was ne'er sae sweet

As was the blink o' Phemie's ee.

Blithe, blithe, &c.

The Highland hills I've wander'd wide,

And o'er the Lowlands I hae been ;

But Phemie was the blithest lass

That ever trod the dewy green.

OH HEY! JOHNNIE LAD.

Words by TANNAHILL, Air-" The lasses o' the ferry." Key-note F.

On hey! Johnnie lad,

Ye're no sae kind's ye should hae been,

Oh hey! Johnnie lad,

Ye didna keep your tryst yestreen.

I wanted lang beside the wood,

Sae wae and weary a' my lane,

Oh hey! Johnnie lad,

It was a waefu' night yestreen.

I looked by the whinny knowe,

I looked by the firs sae green,

I looked owre the spunkie howe,

And aye I thought ye would hae been.

The ne'er a supper cross'd my craig,

The ne'er a sleep has clos'd my een, Oh hey! Johnnie lad,

It was a waefu' night yestreen.

Gin ye were waiting by the wood,

Then I was waiting by the thorn,

I thought it was the place we set,

And waited maist till dawning morn.

Sae be nae vex'd my bonnie lassie,

Let my waiting stand for thine :

We'll awa to Craigton shaw,

And seek the joys we tint yestreen.