GO TO BERWICK, JOHNNIE.[26]
Go to Berwick, Johnnie;
Bring her frae the Border;
Yon sweet bonnie lassie,
Let her gae nae farther.
English loons will twine ye
O' the lovely treasure;
But we 'll let them ken
A sword wi' them we 'll measure.
Go to Berwick, Johnnie,
And regain your honour;
Drive them ower the Tweed,
And show our Scottish banner.
I am Rob, the King,
And ye are Jock, my brither;
But, before we lose her,
We 'll a' there thegither.
MISS FORBES' FAREWELL TO BANFF.
Farewell, ye fields an' meadows green!
The blest retreats of peace an' love;
Aft have I, silent, stolen from hence,
With my young swain a while to rove.
Sweet was our walk, more sweet our talk,
Among the beauties of the spring;
An' aft we 'd lean us on a bank,
To hear the feather'd warblers sing.
The azure sky, the hills around,
Gave double beauty to the scene;
The lofty spires of Banff in view—
On every side the waving grain.
The tales of love my Jamie told,
In such a saft an' moving strain,
Have so engaged my tender heart,
I 'm loth to leave the place again.
But if the Fates will be sae kind
As favour my return once more,
For to enjoy the peace of mind
In those retreats I had before:
Now, farewell, Banff! the nimble steeds
Do bear me hence—I must away;
Yet time, perhaps, may bring me back,
To part nae mair from scenes so gay.