This page has been validated.
472
SCOTTISH SONGS.

The Bonnie Wee Wifie.

[F. Bennoch.—Here first printed.—Air, "Mrs. M'Donald."]

My bonnie wee wifie, I'm waefu' to leave thee—
To leave thee sae lanely an' far, far frae me;
Come night an' come morning, I'll soon be returning,
Then, O my dear wifie, how happy we'll be.
The night it is cauld, an' the way dreigh an' dreary,
The snaw's drifting blin'ly o'er moorland an' lea;
All nature looks eerie—how can she be cheerie,
For weel maun she ken that I'm parted frae thee.

Oh wae is the lammy that's lost its dear mammy;
An' wae is the bird that sits chirping alane;
The plaints they are making—their wee bit hearts breaking,
Are throbbings o' pleasure compared wi' my pain.
The sun to the simmer—the bark to the timmer,—
The sense to the saul, and the light to the e'e,—
The bud to the blossom—sae thou'rt to my bosom,
Oh wae's my heart, wifie, when parted frae thee.

There's naething availing in weeping and wailing,
Though fortune be failing an' friendship decay:
But love in hearts glowing—its riches bestowing,
Bequeaths us a treasure death takes not away.
Let nae gruesome feeling creep o'er thy heart, stealing
The bloom frae thy cheek when thou'rt thinking of me;
Come night an' come morning—then hame, hame returning,
Nae mair, cozie wifie, we parted shall be.




Her bonnie black e'e.

Sweet was her look when she smiling sat by my side,
Sweet was her song on the green banks of flowing Clyde;
Sweet was her blush when she promised to be my bride,
Sweeter the blink o' her bonnie black e'e.

Kiss'd I her rosy lips, o'er aye an' o'er again,
Press'd I her to my breast more aye an' more again;
But when her form frae my bosom she tore again,
I sigh'd for the blink o' her bonnie black e'e.

Bein though my biggin' be, what joy is it a' to me,
Hale though my haddin', nae pleasure is 't ava to me,
Plenty seems painfu', when she is awa' frae me;
I sigh for the sight o' her bonnie black e'e.

Oh! cruel fate, wilt thou never mair ease my care,
Henry was faithfu', and Jeannie was fause and fair,
Death, come and ease my pain, ne'er can I see her mair,
Farewell the slight o' her bonnie black e'e.