Hector Macneill

Again the tide of rapture swells;
Britannia sees new trophies rise;
Again the trump of vict'ry tells
That with the brave compassion lies!
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When many hearts were gay,
Careless of aught but play,
Poor Flora slipt away
Sadd'ning to Mora.
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Dear honest hearted, canty Charlie!
To whom I'd trust baith late and earlie;
Accept, in token o' regard,
Frae rhyming Mac, your friend and bard,
A gift to raise on Sunday's even
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My luve 's in Germanie, send him hame, send him hame;
My luve 's in Germanie, send him hame;
My luve 's in Germanie,
Fighting brave for royalty:
He may ne'er his Jeanie see
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How varied lies the chequer'd scene!
Dunmait capt with snow;
While humbler smiles, in vernal green,
The sun-clad vale below:
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'O Listen! listen and I'll tell ye
How this fair maid's play'd her part :
First she vow'd and promis'd to me,
Now she strives to break my heart!'
Eirin O! Mally Aiken,
Eirin O s'dhu me roon.
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'Lassie wi' the gowden hair,
Silken snood, and face sae fair;
Lassie wi' the yellow hair,
Think nae to deceive me!
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'Oh, dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee!
Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
Dinna think, bonnie lassie, I 'm gaun to leave thee;
I 'll tak a stick into my hand, and come again and see thee.'
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O Johnie! can you pity ony!
Is your heart yet turn'd to stane?
Can ye calmly hear that Menie
Ne'er will see your face again?
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Oh! tell me, bonie young lassie!
Oh tell me how for to woo!
Oh tell me, bonie sweet lassie!
Oh tell me how for to woo!
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O! Say, lovely Nan! can you lie in a hammock?
When the mountain-waves rage, can you swing in a hammock?
As the winds roar aloft, and rude billows dash o'er us,
Can my Nancy sleep soundly amid the wild chorus?
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'Whar hae ye been a' day, my boy Tammy?
Whar hae ye been a' day, my boy Tammy?'
'I've been by burn and flowery brae,
Meadow green, and mountain grey,
Courting o' this young thing,
Just come frae her mammy.'
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Hech! lass, but ye're canty and vogie!
Wow! but your e'en look pauky and roguie!
What war ye doing, Kate, down in yon bogie,
Up in the morning sae airy and grey?'
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When shall the woes of War and Discord cease!
When shall the morn of Harmony arise!
When shall the dawn of Concord, Love, and Peace,
Break through the gloom, and light dark Europe's skies!
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The wind blew hie owre muir and lea,
And dark and stormy grew the weather;
The rain rain'd sair; nae shelter near
But my luve's plaid amang the hether:
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In Roslin's bowers bloom fragrant flowers,
On Yarrow's banks they're mony;
Whar Kirtle flows ance stately rose
The sweetest flower o' ony!
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Hark! - hark! the sound of battle!
Warning thrice, the cannon's rattle!
Fast o'er plain and mountain brattle
Scotia's thousands brave!
A. Never! - never mair to tell
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Our good king sits in Windsor tower,
The sun-beams glint sae cheerfu'!
A birdie sang in yonder bower,
And O! but it sang fearfu'!
Tell me, my bird, my mourning bird,
What is't you sing so drearie?
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'Oh, saw ye my wee thing? saw ye my ain thing?
Saw ye my true love, down on yon lee?
Cross'd she the meadow yestreen at the gloamin'?
Sought she the burnie whare flow'rs the haw-tree?
Her hair it is lint-white; her skin it is milk-white;
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See! rob'd in new beauties, young May cheers the lawn!
Ye virgins! how charming her air!
Haste! cull her fresh flow'rets dew-dropping at dawn,
And chaplets entwine for your hair!
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