6
Mang the birks o’ Stanly shaw
The mavis sings fu’ cheerie, O,
Sweet the craw-flow’rs early bell
Decks Gleniffer’s dewy dell,
Blooming like thy bonny sel’,
My young my artless dearie, O.
Come, my lassie, let us stray,
O’er Glenkilloch’s sunnie brae,
Biythely spend the gowden day,
Midst joys that never wearie, O.
Tow’ring o’er the Newtown woods,
Lavrocks fan the snaw-white clouds;
Siller saughs, wi’ downie buds,
Adorn the bank sae brierie, O.
Round the sylvan fairy nooks,
Feath’ry breckans fringe the rocks,
’Neath the brae the burnie jouks,
And ilka thing is eheerie, O.
Trees may bud, and birds may sing,
Flowers may bloom, and verdure spring,
Joy to me they canna bring,
Unless wi’ thee, my dearie, O.
THE IRISH SMUGGLERS.
From Brighton two Paddies walk’d under the cliff
For pebbles and shells to explore,
When, low! a small barrel was dropp’d from the
skiff,
Which floated, at length, to the shore
