My breast can scarce contain my heart,
When dancing she moves finely O;
I guess what heaven is by her eyes,
They sparkle sae divinely O;
My Nanie O, my Nanie O,
The flower o' Nithsdale's Nanie O;
Love looks frae 'neath her lang brown hair,
And says, I dwell with Nanie O.
Tell not, thou star at grey daylight,
O'er Tinwald-tap sae bonny O,
My footsteps 'mang the morning dew
When coming frae my Nanie O;
My Nanie O, my Nanie O;
Nane ken o' me and Nanie O;
The stars and moon may tell 't aboon,
They winna wrang my Nanie O!
CANADIAN BOAT-SONG
THOMAS MOORE
Faintly as tolls the evening chime,
Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time.
Soon as the woods on shore look dim,
We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn.
Row, brothers, row! the stream runs fast,
The rapids are near, and the daylight's past!
Why should we yet our sail unfurl?
There's not a breath the blue wave to curl!
But, when the wind blows off the shore,
Oh, sweetly we'll rest our weary oar.
Blow, breezes, blow! the stream runs fast,
The rapids are near, and the daylight's past!
Ottawa's tide! this trembling moon
Shall see us float o'er thy surges soon.
Saint of this green isle, hear our prayers,
Oh, grant us cool heavens and favouring airs.
Blow, breezes, blow! the stream runs fast,
The rapids are near, and the daylight's past!