Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/610

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thou forgotten the birk tree's shade,

And this warm true heart of mine, Mary?

O hast thou forgotten the promise made

When so fondly 'twas press'd to thine, Mary?

O hast thou forgotten—what I ne'er can forget—

The hours we have spent together?—

Those hours which, like stars, in my memory yet

Shine on as brightly as ever?

O hast thou forgotten that moment of bless—

So fraught with the heart's full feeling—

As we clung to each other i' the last embrace,

The soul of love revealing?

O hast thou forgotten that sacred spot,

Where the farewell word was spoken?

Is the sigh and the tear and all forgot,—

Is the vow and the promise broken?

Then, for ever farewell, thou false fair one!

Though other arms caress thee,—

Though a fairer youth thy heart should gain,

And a smoother tongue should bless thee;—

Yet never again on thy warm, young cheek

Will breathe a soul more warm than mine;

And never again will a lover speak

Of love more pure to thine!

! you hafe left us a',

You're teat's a stone now, Dannie;

Ta cauld toor's on your heat,

In ta krafe wi' your krannie.

Och! ish O! Och! ish O!

Sair's ta heart o' your mither,

She would not be so fex

Hat you left put a prither.

Och! prawlie she'll ha'e mint

Whan ye'll ran 'mang ta heather

Ant ta kyes ant ta shepps

Ye'll prought hame to your mither.

Och! ish O! &c.

Ant no more will you play

"Gillie Callie" at ta wattin',

Or Shake Corton's strathspey,

From ta kreen to ta pettin.

Och! ish O! &c.

Yesh! you nefer sait a swear,

Or a cursh to your mither;

Ant you ne'er lift your han'

All your tays to your father.

Och! ish O! &c.

Your skin was white's a milk;

Your hair was fine's a moutie;

Your preath was sweeter far

Than smell of putter't croutie.

Och! ish! &c.

Put och! noo you are teat—

Nefer more will she sawt you;

Ta cauld toor's on your heat—

Your mither's tarlin' dawtie.

Och! ish O! &c.

for the lassie! she's no right at a',

That lo'es a dear laddie, an' he far awa';

But the lassie has muckle mair cause to complain,

That lo'es a dear lad, when she's no lo'ed again.

The fair was just comin', my heart it grew fain

To see my dear laddie, to see him again;

My heart it grew fain, an' lap light at the thought

Of milkin' the ewes my dear Jamie wad bught.

The bonnie grey morn scarce had open'd her e'e,

When we set to the gate a' wi' nae little glee;

I was blythe, but my mind oft misga'e me right sair,

For I hadna seen Jamie for five months an' mair.