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SCOTTISH SONGS.
167

Laddie, oh, leave me.

[Joseph Macgregor.]

Down whar the burnie rins whimplin' and cheery,
When love's star was smilin'; I met wi' my dearie;
Ah! vain was its smilin', she wadna believe me,
But said wi' a saucy air, "Laddie, Oh! leave me,
"Leave me, leave me, laddie. Oh! leave me."

"I've lo'ed thee o'er truly to seek a new dearie,
I've lo'ed thee o'er fondly, through life e'er to weary,
I've lo'ed thee o'er lang, love, at last to deceive thee:
Look cauldly or kindly, but bid me not leave thee."
Leave thee, leave thee, &c.

"There's nae ither saft e'e that fills me wi' pleasure,
There's nae ither rose-lip has half o' its treasure,
There's nae ither bower, love, shall ever receive me,
Till death break this fond heart—oh, then I maun leave thee."
Leave thee, leave thee, &c.

The tears o'er her cheeks ran like dew frae red roses;
What hope to the lover one tear-drop discloses;
I kiss'd them, and blest her, at last to relieve me
She yielded her hand, and sigh'd, "Oh! never leave me."
Leave me, leave me, &c.




Forget na', dear Lassie.

Forget na', dear lassie, when I'm far frae thee,
Forget na' the tear that may steal frae my ee;
Oh think on the time we sae happy ha'e been;
Oh think on the wandering beneath the moon's beam.

I will think on the tear thou wilt shed when alone,
And fondly remember each dear woodland scene,
I'll bless the sweet smile, that still woo'd me to thee,
And hope, sweetly smiling, will gladden my ee.

I see the rose fading, dear maid, on thy cheek,
I feel the heart throbbings, thy anguish that speak;
But let the tear-drop nor sorrow be thine,
Peace rest in thy bosom, and sorrow be mine.

When 'midst the rude storm on the wide-swelling sea,
Fond fancy will turn to this hour, love, wi' thee,
I'll sigh to the billows to waft me ashore,
To part frae my hame and my lassie no more.