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amang auld Ballochmyle banks Bard beauty birks of Aberfeldy blaw Blithe body kiss bonnie Doon Bonnie lassie bonnie Mary bosom braes braw Burns Charlie Charlie Stewart charms CHORUS Collier Laddie composed daunton dear dearie Deil e'en Ecclefechan Eppie M'Nab fair Farewell favourite flower frae glen green grows bonnie wi gude hame heart heroine Highland laddie ilka Inverness jacobite Jamie John Anderson Kenmure's kiss lady lass lawin lo'e luve lyric mair Mauchline maun merry miller morning muse Musical Museum naebody Nannie ne'er night Nith o'er old song owre parcel of rogues Poet Poet's rue grows bonnie says Scotland Scottish sing sparklin strain sweet sweetly thee There's thou thro thyme Tune verses weary weaver weel Whigs wife Willie win my love wind wither'd wrote ye go ye'll Ye're yon town young
Page 284 - As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I, And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till a" the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi
Page 131 - Go fetch to me a pint o' wine, An fill it in a silver tassie ; That I may drink, before I go, A service to my bonnie lassie : The boat rocks at the pier o...
Page 137 - Is ever wi' my Jean. I see her in the dewy flowers, I see her sweet and fair: I hear her in the tunefu...
Page 159 - Time but the impression stronger makes, As streams their channels deeper wear. My Mary, dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ?" Harris's " Tarn o' Shanter" has been considered one of his best compositions.
Page 282 - A waefu' day it was to me ; For there I lost my father dear, My father dear and brethren three. Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are growing green to see ; And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman's e'e ! Now wae to thee thou cruel lord, A bluidy man I trow thou be ; For mony a heart thou hast made sair, That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee ! A RED, RED ROSE TUNE—
Page 15 - Green grow the rashes, O ; Green grow the rashes, O ; The sweetest hours that e'er I spend, Are spent am'ang the lasses, O ! THERE'S nought but care on ev'ry han', In ev'ry hour that passes, O ; What signifies the life o' man, An
Page 158 - Thou ling'ring star, with less'ning ray, That lov'st to greet the early morn, Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
Page 145 - My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here : My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.