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SCOTTISH SONGS.
357

Ae morn of May, when fields were gay,
Serene and charming was the weather,
I chanc'd to roam some miles frae home,
Far o'er yon muir, amang the heather.
O'er the muir amang the heather,
O'er the muir amang the heather,
How healthsome 'tis to range the muirs,
And brush the dew from vernal heather.

I walk'd along and humm'd a song,
My heart was light as ony feather,
And soon did pass a lovely lass,
Was wading barefoot thro' the heather!
O'er the muir amang the heather,
O'er the muir amang the heather,
The bonniest lass that e'er I saw,
I met ae morn amang the heather.

Her eyes divine, mair bright did shine,
Than the most clear unclouded aether;
A fairer form did ne'er adorn
A brighter scene than blooming heather.
O'er the muir amang the heather,
O'er the muir amang the heather,
There's ne'er a lass in Scotia's isle,
Can vie with her amang the heather.

I said, "Dear maid, be not afraid;
Pray, sit you down, let's talk together;
For, O! my fair, I vow and swear,
You've stole my heart amang the heather."
O'er the muir amang the heather,
O'er the muir amang the heather,
Ye swains, beware of yonder muir,
You'll lose your hearts amang the heather.

She answer'd me, right modestly,
"I go, kind Sir, to seek my father,
Whose fleecy charge, he tends at large,
On yon green hills, beyond the heather."
O'er the muir amang the heather,
O'er the muir amang the heather.
Were I a king, thou shou'dst be mine,
Dear blooming maid amang the heather.

Away she flew out of my view,
Her home or name I ne'er could gather,
But aye sin' syne I sigh and pine
For that sweet lass amang the heather.
O'er the muir amang the heather,
O'er the muir amang the heather,
While vital heat glows in my heart,
I'll love the lass amang the heather.




Scotland and Charlie.

[Music arranged by R. A. Smith. At page 326 will be found another song with the same fantastic title.]

O wha's for Scotland and Charlie?
O wha's for Scotland and Charlie?
He's come o'er the sea
To his ain countrie;
Now wha's for Scotland and Charlie?
Awa', awa', auld carlie,
Awa', awa', auld carlie,
Gi'e Charlie his crown,
And let him sit down,
Whare ye've been sae lang, auld carlie.

It's up in the morning early,
It's up in the morning early;
The bonnie white rose;
The plaid and the hose,
Are on for Scotland and Charlie.

The swords are drawn now fairly,
The swords are drawn now fairly,
The swords they are drawn,
And the pipes they ha'e blawn
A pibroch for Scotland and Charlie.

The flags are fleein' fu' rarely,
The flags are fleein' fu' rarely,
And Charlie's awa'
To see his ain ha',
And to bang his faes right sairly.
Then wha's for Scotland and Charlie?
O wha's for Scotland and Charlie?
He's come o'er the sea
To his ain countrie;
Then wha's for Scotland and Charlie?




Gin e’er I’m in love.

Gin e'er I'm in love, it shall be with a lass
As sweet as the morn dew that ligs on the grass;
Her cheeks maun be ruddy, her e'en maun be bright,

Like stars in the sky on a cauld frosty night.