Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/612

594 And when abroad in summer morn,

I hear the blythe bold bee

Winding aloft his tiny horn,

(An errant knight perdy,)

That winged hunter of rare sweets,

O'er many a far country,

To me a lay of love repeats,

Its subject—thee.

And when, in midnight hour, I note

The stars so pensively,

In their wild beauty, onward float

Through heaven's own silent sea:

My heart is in their voyaging

To realms where spirits be,

But its mate, in such wandering,

Is ever thee.

But, oh, the murmur of the brook,

The music of the tree;

The rose with its sweet shamefaced look,

The booming of the bee;

The course of each bright voyager,

In heaven's unmeasured sea,

Would not one heart pulse of me stir,

Loved I not thee!

[.—Air, "Ballenden Braes."—Once printed in Upper Canada.]

I'll whistle, now I'll sing,

Now I'll caper, now I'll fling,

Now the chairs about I'll ding;

For guess ye, man, I'm married.

The happy day is come at last,

A' my doubts and fears are past,

A' my cares behind me cast,

For fast and firm I'm married.

Oh! how happy I am now,

Happier than a prince, I trow,

When I pree her bonnie mou',

And think that I am married.

The bachelor's a stupid ass,

Pretends he disna like a lass,

Weary may his moments pass,

Till ance that he gets married.

Oh! the Eumph, he disna ken,

That they're far the happiest men

Wha a bonnie lass ha'e ta'en,

And kiss'd her, and got married.

Never heed the want o' siller,

Gif her cheek's a rosy colour,

Clap her aye, and whisper till her,

What think ye to be married?