- 1. Gloomy winter’s now awa’.
- 2. Roy’s wife of Aldivalloch.
- 3. Beneath the pretty hawthorn that blooms in the vale.
- 4. And she showed him the way for to woo.
- 5. I gaed a waefu’ gate yestreen.
- 6. John Anderson, my Joe, John, when we were first acquent.
- 7. Thy cheek is o’ the rose’s hue,
My only joe and dearie, O. - 8. Coming o’er the craigs o’ Kyle.
- 9. O, lassie, art thou sleeping yet;—and the answer.
- 10. There’s nae luck about the house,
There’s nae luck ava’;
There’s little pleasure in the house,
When our gudeman’s awa’. - 11. The sun had gone down o’er the lofty Ben Lomond.
- 12. My uncle’s dead—I’ve lands enew.
- 13. For lack of gold she’s left me, O.
- 14. O’ a the airths the wind can blaw.
- 15. When honey-dyed bells o’er the heather was spreading.
- 16. Loudon’s bonny woods and braes.
- 17. The Highland Laddie.
- 18. Upon a simmer’s afternoon.
Awee afore the sun gaed down. - 19. There’s cauld kail in Aberdeen, the new way.
- 20. Mirk and rainy was the night.
- 21. My Pattie is a lover gay.
- 22. I’m wearin’ awa’, Jean,
Like sna’ when its thaw, Jean. - 23. Its Logie o’ Buchan, o’ Logie the laird.
- 24. With the garb of old Gaul, and the fire of old Rome.
- 25. Come under my plaide.
- 26. O’ Bessie Bell and Mary Gray.
- 27. Ye banks and braes of bonny Doon.
- 28. The laird of the drum, a wooing has gone,—
And awa’ in the morning early:
And he has spied a weel fa’red May,
A shearing her father’s barley. - 29. My bonny Lizzie Baillie.
- 30. Green grow the rushes, O!
I must have done—I have named so many songs to put my readers in mind of
“Auld lang syne;”
and I could add as many more, of truly Scottish origin, that I should like to see in Canada, as would fill up the “Advocate;” but I must stop—the politicians would complain. I have heard a few of these well sung in Canada—the last, a lintie in Queenston braes sings now and then. Would there were ten thousand such in Upper Canada!
The English version of the following line, is not near so pretty as the Scots original, which goes thus:—
“I once was a bachelor, both early and young,
And I courted a fair maid with a flattering tongue:
I courted her, I wooed her, I honoured her then,
And I promised to marry her, but never told her when.
O, I never told her when,” &c.
With this may be contrasted a verse of sir Walter Scott’s Mary, in “The Pirate:”—
“O were there an island,
Though ever so wild,
Where woman could smile, and
No man be beguiled—
Too tempting a snare
To poor mortals were given,
And the hope would fix there,
That should anchor on heaven.”
This is beguiling on both sides; but the latter stanzas finely express an idea fit for an oriental paradise.