"Oh! for my daddie's kindly luik,
My minnie's kindly care!
Gin I were in their ingle neuk,
I'd never leave it mair."
Her daddie, &c.
O wake thee.
[Sangster.—Music by R. A. Smith.]
O wake thee, O wake thee, my bonnie, bonnie bird,
And sing thy matin lay!
O wake thee, O wake thee, my bonnie, bonnie bird!
For the sun is up on his way.
The foliage soughs in the morning breeze,
An' the green leaves glitter in the sun,
The spray rows white o'er the bounding seas,
An' the village bell is begun.
Then wake thee, O wake thee, mine ain bonnie bird!
And sing thy matin lay,
For the tap boughs swing, my bonnie, bonnie bird,
In the sough o' the new sprung day.
The silvery clouds, like sheeted ghaists,
Take their flight o'er the pure blue sky;
And the laverocks are pillow'd on their downy breasts,
And are borne with their anthems on high.
Then wake thee, O wake thee, my bonnie, bonnie bird!
O wake while it is day!
For the night comes sweet, my bonnie, bonnie bird,
When the morning is hail'd wi' thy lay.
I ha’e nae kith.
[Jacobite Song.]
I ha'e nae kith, I ha'e nae kin,
Nor ane that's dear to me;
For the bonnie lad that I lo'e best,
He's far ayont the sea.
He's gane wi' ane that was our ain,
And we may rue the day,
When our king's ae daughter came here
To play sic foul play.
O gin I were a bonnie bird,
Wi' wings that I might flee,
Then would I travel o'er the main,
My ae true love to see.
Then I wad tell a joyfu' tale,
To ane that's dear to me,
And sit upon a king's window
And sing my melody.
The adder lies i' the corbie's nest,
Aneath the corbie's wing,
And the blast that reaves the corbie's brood,
Will soon blaw hame our king.
Then blaw ye east, or blaw ye west,
Or blaw ye o'er the faem,
O bring the lad that I lo'e best,
And ane I darena name.
Gae to the kye wi’ me.
[The song of "Gae to the kye wi' me, Johnnie," is of considerable antiquity, but we here do not give the whole of the olden version, which is rather coarse for insertion.]
"O gae to the kye wi' me, Johnnie,
Gae to the kye wi' me;
O gae to the kye wi' me, Johnnie,
And I'll be merry wi' thee."
"O lassie, I'm weary wand'rin',
I've gaen mair miles than three
I'se no gang the day to the herdin',
It's fashous and naething to see."
"O gae to the kye wi' me, Johnnie,
Gae to the kye wi' me;
O gae to the kye wi' me, Johnnie,
And I'll be merry wi' thee."
"Oh we'll tak' a rest at the shieling,
Anent the tap o' the hill,
And there's a loch o' pure water
Whare ye may drink your fill.
Oh gae, &c.
"Amang the rocks and the heather
A burn does roaring fa',
And there the trouties are loupin',
The bonniest ever I saw."
Oh gae, &c.
