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I have often us'd to flatter maids,
 But thus it must not be,
On the banks of Inverury
 My wedded wife you’ll be.

He’s put his horn to his mouth,
 And blew it loud and shrill,
And thirty-six well armed men
 Were at their master’s will:
I have often us'd to flatter maids,
 But thus it shall not be,
On the banks of Inverury
 My wedded wife you’ll be.

You’ll take this pretty fair maid
 And set her on horse-back high,
And with her to some Parson ride,
 And that immediately;
And I will sing these lines, said he,
 Until the day I die,
To the praise of Inverury banks,
 Where first I did her see.

 

 

THE
Bonny Lass of Calder-Braes.
(Tune—Logan-Water.)

When cares were few, and life was young,
⟨On⟩Calder-braes I danc’d and sung,
⟨Unpain’d⟩ by keen remorse’s dart,
⟨Lay⟩ flow’d spontaneous from my heart;