Page:Wreath of song, or, Favourite airs for the lovers of music.pdf/7

 7 But tho baron wateh'd as ho rais'd a the lateh An' kiss'd again his bride, "An' with his spear, in deadly ire, He pierc'd Lord Ronald's side The life-blood fled frae fair Ellenore's cheek ; She look'd all war an ghast; She lean'd ther down by Lord Ronald's side, Au' the blood was rinnin' fast. She elasped his hand, an' she kiss'd his lip, As she sigh'd her last adieu; For never, O never did lady love Her lord with a heart so true.

A SCOTS SANG. I ha'e lost my love, and I dinna ken how, I ha'e lost my love, an' I carena ; For laith will I be just to lie down an' dee, And to sit down and greet wad be bairuly'; But a screed & ill nature I canna weel help, At having been guidit unfairly; An' weel wad I like to gi’e women a skelp, An' yerk their sweet haffets fu yarely. O! plague on the limmers, sae sly an' demure, as pawkie as de'ils wi' their smiling ; As fickle as winter, in sunshine and shower, The hearts of a mankind beguiling ; As sour as December, as soothing as May, To snit their ain ends never doubt them: Then ill fau'ts I couldna tell ower in a day, But their beauty's the warst thing about them