O wat ye wha that lo’es me And has my heart a-keeping? O sweet is she that lo’es me, As dews o’ summer weeping, In tears the rosebuds steeping! Chorus—O that’s the lassie o’ my heart, My lassie ever dearer; O she’s the queen o’ womankind, And ne’er a ane to peer her. If thou shalt meet a lassie, In grace and beauty charming, That e’en thy chosen lassie, Erewhile thy breast sae warming, Had ne’er sic powers alarming; O that’s the lassie, &c. If thou hadst heard her talking, And thy attention’s plighted, That ilka body talking, But her, by thee is slighted, And thou art all delighted; O that’s the lassie, &c. If thou hast met this Fair One, When frae her thou hast parted, If every other Fair One But her, thou hast deserted, And thou art broken-hearted, O that’s the lassie o’ my heart, My lassie ever dearer; O that’s the queen o’ womankind, And ne’er a ane to peer her.
Inscription
Written on the blank leaf of a copy of the last edition of my poems, presented to the Lady whom, in so many fictitious reveries of passion, but with the most ardent sentiments of real friendship, I have so often sung under the name of—“Chloris.”1
’Tis Friendship’s pledge, my young, fair Friend, Nor thou the gift refuse, Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralising Muse. Since thou, in all thy youth and charms, Must bid the world adieu, (A world ’gainst Peace in constant arms) To join the Friendly Few. Since, thy gay morn of life o’ercast, Chill came the tempest’s lour; (And ne’er Misfortune’s eastern blast Did nip a fairer flower.) Since life’s gay scenes must charm no more, Still much is left behind, Still nobler wealth hast thou in store— The comforts of the mind! Thine is the self-approving glow, Of conscious Honour’s part; And (dearest gift of Heaven below) Thine Friendship’s truest heart. The joys refin’d of Sense and Taste, With every Muse to rove: And doubly were the Poet blest, These joys could he improve. R.B. [Footnote 1: Miss Lorimer.]
Fragment.—Leezie Lindsay
Will ye go to the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay, Will ye go to the Hielands wi’ me? Will ye go to the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay, My pride and my darling to be.