Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/159

Rh "How daur ye tak' sic freedoms here?"

The bauld gudewife began,

Wi' that a foursome yell gat up,

I to my heels an' ran;

A besom whiskit by my lug,

An' dishclouts half a score,

Catch me again, though fidgin' fain,

At kissin' 'hint the door.

There's meikle bliss, &c.

[—Tune, "The Mistletoe Bough."—Here first printed.]

[.—Air, "Lucy's Flittin."—Here first printed.]

alane at the break o' the mornin'—

The dun clouds o' nicht were a' wearin' awa',—

The sun rose in glory, the grey hills adornin',

A' glintin' like gowd were their tappits o' snaw;

Adown by my side row'd the rock-bedded Kelvin,

While nature aroun' was beginnin' to green,

An' auld cottar bodies their yardies were delvin',

Kenin' thrift in the morn brocht pleasure at e'en.

I leant me against an auld mossy clad palin',

An' noo an' then dichted a tear frae my e'e—

I look'd on the bodies, an' envied their toilin'—

Though lowly their lot, they seem'd happy by me.

I thocht on my riches, yet feckless the treasure,

I tried to forget, but the labour was vain;

My wifie an' bairn were a' my life's pleasure,

An' they to the grave baith thegither had gane.

The thochts o' her love had awaken'd my sorrow,

The laugh o' my bairnie cam' back on mine ears,

An' piercin' my heart wi' the force o' an arrow,

It opened anew the saft channel o' tears.