"O! no, no, no!" the maiden said—
Sing heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho!—
And bashfully turn'd aside her head,
On that summer morning so early.
"My mother is old, my mother is frail,
Our cottage it lies in yon green dale;
I dare not list to any such tale,
For I love my kind mother rarely."
The shepherd took her lily-white hand—
Sing heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho!—
And on her beauty did gazing stand,
On that summer morning so early.
"Thy mother I ask thee not to leave
Alone in her frail old age to grieve;
But my home can hold us all, believe—
Will that not please thee fairly?"
"O! no, no, no! I am all too young"—
Sing heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho!—
"I dare not list to a young man's tongue,
On a summer morning so early."
But the shepherd to gain her heart was bent;
Oft she strove to go, but she never went;
And at length she fondly blush'd consent—
Heaven blesses true lovers so fairly.
ROBERT FRASER.
Robert Fraser was born in the village of Pathhead, Fifeshire, on the 24th of June 1798. Receiving a respectable education at the various schools of the place, he became apprenticed in his fourteenth year to a wine-merchant in Kirkcaldy, with whom he continued during a period of four years. In 1819 he commenced business with a partner as an ironmonger in Kirkcaldy, and for a considerable time was prosperous in merchandise. His spare hours were devoted to literature, more especially to classical learning and the acquisition of the modern languages. He was latterly familiar with all the languages of Europe. He contributed both in prose and verse to the Edinburgh Literary Journal, and other periodicals. A series of misfortunes led to his renouncing business, and in 1838 he accepted the editorship of the Fife Herald newspaper, when he removed his residence to Cupar-Fife. He died at Cupar, after a lingering illness, on the 22d May 1839. His "Poetical Remains," with a memoir from the pen of the poet Vedder, were published a few months after his decease. Though not entitled to a high rank, his poetry is pervaded by gracefulness, and some of his lyrics evince considerable power.
OH, I LO'ED MY LASSIE WEEL.
Oh, I lo'ed my lassie weel,
How weel I canna tell;
Lang, lang ere ithers trow'd,
Lang ere I wist mysel'.
At the school amang the lave,
If I wrestled or I ran,
I cared na' for the prize,
If she saw me when I wan.
Oh, I lo'ed my lassie weel,
When thae gleesome days were gane;
'Mang a' the bonnie an' the gude,
To match her saw I nane.
Though the cauld warl' o'er me cam,
Wi' its cumber an' its toil,
My day-tide dool was a' forgot,
In her blithe e'enin' smile.