Rough Scan
SONGS FOR THE NURSERY.

It is in filling a child's mind as in packing a trunk - we must take care what we lay in below, not only to secure for that a safe place, but to prevent it from damaging what is to come after. - _Quarterly Review_.





NOTICE FROM THE PUBLISHER.

THE contributors to this little work being too numerous to speak for themselves, have devolved that duty on Publisher.  It were a work of supererogation to speak of the difficulty of writing songs for the Nursery.  To invest with poetic imagery and associations, subjects calculated to interest the infant mind, is no easy achievementl nor is the difficulty lessened by an attempt to blend instruction with amusement.  Yet to such tas have the various writers of the pieces contained in this little volume addressed themselves, and, I trust, not altogether without success.
It has been said that it is the schoolmaster who forms the national character, and this is so far true; but unless the basis on which the moral and intellectual character is to be formed, has been carefully prepared before the transfer is made from the nursery to the public seminary, the labours of the teacher will be arduous, and their results uncertain.  Few impressions made in early life, whether for good or evil, are ever entirely effaced from the memory; the former continuing through succeeding years to purify and elevate the affections, the latter to strengthen and stimulate the passions; thus rendering it of the last importance that these impressions should be associated with a love of the pure and beautiful.
The following Lyrics inculcate kindness in the treatment of children, in the belief that such treatment is better calculated to promote their improvement than severity.  Parents should be, as far as circumstances will permit, the associates and playmates of their children in their innocent amusements.  Instead of this, how often do we see those who ought to recollect what impression gentleness made on themselves during early years, speak to their children in a spirit and manner calculated rather to repel than attract; as if, in the field of nature, the prickly stem which supports the opening bud, were to employ its thorny armour to lacerate the flower which it is armed to protect!
To those who object to the use of our national dialect in the nursery, as being the language of the vulgar and uneducated, we would submit the following remarks on this subject by Lord Jeffrey: - "The Scotch is not to be considered as a provincial dialect - the vehicle only of rustic vulgarity, and rude local humour.  It is the langusge of a whole country, long an independent kingdom, and still separate in laws, character and manners.  It is by no means peculiar to the vulgar; but is the common speech of the whole nation in early life, and, with many of its most exalted and accomplished individuals, throughout their whole existence; and though it be true that, in later times, it has been in some measure laid aside by the more ambitious and aspiring of the present generation, it is still recollected even by them, as the familiar language of their childhood, and of those who were the earliest objects of their love and veneration.  It is connected in their imagination not only with that olden time which is uniformly conceived as more pure, lofty, and simple than the present, but also with all the soft and bright colours of remembered childhood and domestic affection.  All its phrases conjure up images of school-day innocence and sports, and friendships which have no pattern in succeeding years.  Add to all this, that it is the language of a great body of poetry, with which almost all Scotchmen are familiar; and, in particular, of a great multitude of songs, written with more tenderness, nature and feeling, than any other lyric compositions that are extant - and we may perhaps be allowed to say, that the Scotch is, in reality, a highly poetical language; and that it is an ignorant, as well as an illiberal prejudice which would seek to confound it with the barbarous dialects of Yorkshire or Devon."  To this eloquent tribute to the beauty of our native language, may be added that of Robert Hall of Bristol, who says: - "The Scottish language has a fine Doric sound.  When spoken by a woman it is incomparably the most romantic and melodious language to which I ever listened."  Emanating from an Englishman, and a man of the highest order of intellect, this must be considered as unprejudiced testimony.
With such authorities as these on our side, we can listen without much discomposure to those who insist on calling our language vulgar, and who anticipate with satisfaction, its speedy commutation into that of the Saxon.
What, I would ask, are we to think of the feeling of the Scotsman, what of his patriotism, who could desire the extinction of that language in which Burns sang, in which Scott and Wilson have written-of the language of his childhood, the language which first fell on his infant ear in all its endearing tenderness and pathos from the lips of a fond mother?  That man, be his position and pretension what they may, must be dead to some of the best feelings of our nature!
With regard to the lyrics contained in this little volume, it affords me unfeigned satisfaction to acknowledge the highly flattering manner in which they were received by the press and by the public generally, when they appeared in their original and more expensive form.  It was then said, and I hope truly, that they supplied a desideratum in our national poetry-namely, songs calculated at once to interest and instruct the infant mind-songs which should supplant those senseless unmeaning rhymes that had hitherto held supreme sway in the nursery.
To the general testimony above alluded to in favour of these songs, may be added that of an authority already quoted, perhaps the highest living anthority in our land, Lord Jeffrey, who has said of them in a letter to the Publisher: - "There are more touches of genuine pathos, more felicities of idiomatic expression, more happy poetical images, and, above all, more sweet and engaging pictures of what is peculiar in the depth, softness and thoughfulness of our SCotch domestic affections, in this extraordinary little volume, than I have met with in any thing like the same compass since the days of Burns."







NURSERY SONGS.





WILLIE WINKIE.

Air by Rev. W. B.

WEE WILLIE WINKIE rins through the town,
Up stairs and doon stairs in his nicht-gown,
Tirling at the window, crying at the lock,
"Are the weans in their bed, for it's now ten o'clock?"

"Hey, Willie Winkie, are ye coming ben?
The cat's singing grey thrums to the sleeping hen,
The dog's spelder'd on the floor, and disna gi'e a cheep,
But here's a waukrife laddie! that winna fa' asleep."

Onything but sleep, you rogue! glow'ring like the moon,
Rattling in an airn jug wi' an airn spoon,
Rumbling, tumbling round about, crawing like a cock,
Skirling like a kenna-what, wauk'ning sleeping fock.

"Hey, Willie Winkie-the wean's in a creel!
Wambling aff a bodie's knee like a very eel,
Rugging at the cat's lug, and raveling a' her thrums-
Hey, Willie Winkie - see, there he comes!"

Wearied is the mither that has a stoorie wean,
A wee stumpie stoussie, that canna rin his lane,
That has a battle aye wi' sleep before he'll close an ee-
But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips gi'es strength anew to me.

=======William Miller.





NURSERY SCARECROWS.

AIR - "_Chevy Chase._"

GAE wa' ye silly, senseless quean!
=Nor frighten sae my wean
Wi' tales o' bogles, ghaists, and elves,
=That he'll no sleep his lane.
Come! say your prayers, my bonnie bairn,
=And saftly slip to bed-
Your guardian angel's waiting there,
=To shield your lovely head.

O never mind the foolish things
=That clavering Jenny says-
They're just the idle silly tales,
=The dreams o' darker days;
Our grannies, and our gran'dads too,
=They might believe them a',
And keep themsel's in constant dread
=O' things they never saw.

Lie still, lie still, my ain wee man!
=Sic stories are na true,
There's naething in the dark can harm
=My bonnie harmless doo;
The WATCHFU' EE that never sleeps,
=That never knows decay,
Will tent frae skaith my bonnie bairn,
=By night as weel's by day.

=======Alex Rodger.





THE SELFISH LADDIE.

AIR - "_When the kye come hame._"

Fy! on the selfish laddie
=Who tak's but never gi'es,
Wha canna part wi' aught he gets,
=But covets a' he sees.
He's just a little miser brat,
=A greedy glow'ring elf,
Wha grabs at a' within his grasp,
=And thinks on nought but self.

Though his bit pouch is cramm'd sae fu'
=That it can haud nae mair;
And little Mary pleads for some,
=Yet no ae crumb he'll spare.
Nae bairn can o'er deserve to get,
=Wha winna freely gi'e;
But weel I lo'e the open heart-
=The heart that's warm and free.

When Mary gets an apple,
=It maun be cut in twa,
And aye, I'm sure, the biggest half
=The wee thing gi'es awa'.
She shares her goodies round about
=Sae kindly and sae free,
That nane can be mair blythe to get
=Than Mary's glad to gi'e.

=======Alex Lmark.





THE NEW COMER.

"WHA'S aught this wee wean
=That my minnie has now,
To clasp to her bosom,
=And press to her mou',
While I, ance her dawtie
=Am laid by the wa',
Or set out a' couring
=To try the strik's sta'?

"That wean is your Billie,
=My ain son and heir!
You'll see your ain picture
=A wee wee-er there:
You'll sleep wi' your father,
=Your Billie is sma',
And now that ye're strong,
=Ye maun try the stirk's sta.

"Ye're kind to me, father,
=Nane kinder may be,
But your bosom can ne'er
=Be a mither's to me;
O! dinna me tak'
=Frae that bosy awa',
Dinna ask your wee laddie
=To try the stirk's sta'!"

"Dear bairn! 'tis a foretaste
=O' a' ye'll find here-
We step o'er our elders,
=As year follows year,
We're a' marching onward,
=Our hame's far awa'-
Sae kiss your young Billie,
=And try the stirk's sta'."

=======James Ballantine.





THE FAMILY CONTRAST.

AIR - "_John o' Badenyon._"

O SIRS! was e'er sic difference seen
=As 'twixt wee Will and Tam?
The ane's a perfect ettercap,
=The ither's just a lamb;
Will greets and girns the leelang day.
=And carps at a' he gets-
Wi' ither bairns he winna play,
=But sits alane and frets.

He flings his piece into the fire,
=He yaumers at his brose,
And wae betide the luckless flee
=That lights upon his nose!
He kicks the collie, cuffs the cat,
=The hen and birds he stanes-
Na, little brat! he tak's a preen
=And jags the very weans.

Wi' spite he tumbles aff his stool,
=And there he sprawling lies.
And at his mother throws his gab,
=Gin she but bid him rise.
Is there in a' the world beside
=Sae wild a wight as he?
Weel! gin the creature grow a man,
=I wonder what he'll be!

But Tammy's just as sweet a bairn
=As ane could wish to see,
The smile aye plays around his lips,
=While blythely blinks his ee;
He never whimpers, greets, nor girns,
=Even for a broken tae,
But rins and gets it buckled up,
=Syne out again to play.

He claps the collie, dauts the cat,
=Flings moolins to the doos,
To Bess and Bruckie rins for grass,
=To cool their honest mou's;
He's kind to ilka living thing,
=He winna hurt a flee,
And, gin he meet a beggar bairn,
=His piece he'll freely gi'e.

He tries to please wee crabbit Will,
=When in his cankriest mood,
He gie's him a' his taps and bools,
=And tells him to be good.
Sae good a wean as our wee Tam
=It cheers the heart to see,-
O! gin his brither were like him,
=How happy might we be!

=======Alex Rodger.





GREE, BAIRNIES, GREE!

AIR - "_Oh! no, we never mention her._"

THE Moon has rowed her in a cloud,
=Stravaging win's begin
To shuggle and daud the window-brods,
=Like loons that would be in!
"Gae whistle a tune in the lum-head,
=Or craik in saughen tree!
We're thankfu' for a cozie hame"-
=Sae gree, my bairnies, gree!

Tho' gurling blasts may dourly blaw,
=A rousing fire will thow
A straggler's taes, and keep fu' cosh
=My tousie taps-o'-tow.
O who would cool your kail, my bairns,
=Or bake your bread like me,-
Ye'd get the bit frae out my mouth,
=Sae gree, my bairnies, gree!

Oh, never fling the warmsome boon
=O' bairnhood's love awa';
Mind how ye sleepit, cheek to cheek!
=Between me and the wa';
How as kind arm was ower ye baith-
=But, if ye disagree,
Think on the saft and kindly soun'
=O' "Gree, my bairnies, Gree."

=======William Miller.





THE BONNIE MILK COW.

AIR - "_The auld wife ayont the fire._"

Moo, moo, proochy lady!
=Proo, Hawkie, proo, Hawkie!
Lowing i' the gloaming hour,
=Comes my bonnie cow.
Buttercups an' clover green,
A' day lang, her feast ha'e been,
Then laden hame she comee at e'en-
=Proo, Hawkie, proo!

Bairnies for their porridge greet,
=Proo, Hawkie, proo, Hawkie!
And milk maun ha'e their mou's to weet,
=Sweet and warm frae you.
Though ither kye gae dry an' yel',
Hawkie ne'er was kent to fail,
But aye she fills the reaming pail-
=Proo, Hawkie, proo!

Best o' butter, beet o' cheese,
=Proo, Hawkie, proo, Hawkie!
That weel the nicest gab may please,
=Yields my dainty cow.
When the gudewife stirs the tea,
Sweeter cream there canna be,-
Sic curds an' whey ye'll seldom see-
=Proo, Hawkie, proo!

=======Alex Smart.





ROSY CHEEKIT APPLES.

AIR - "_What's a' the steer, kimmer._"

COME awa', my bairnie, for your bawbee
Rosy cheekit apples ye shall hae three.
A' sae fou' o' hinny, they drappit frae the tree;
Like your bonny sel', a' the sweeter they are wee.

Come awa', my bairnie, dinna shake your head,
Ye mind me o' my ain bairn, lang, lang, dead.
Ah! for lack o' nourishment he drappit frae the tree;
Like your bonny sel', a' the sweeter he was wee.

Oh! auld frail folk are like auld fruit trees;
They canna stand the gnarl o' the cauld winter breeze.
But heaven tak's the fruit tho' earth forsake the tree;
And we mourn our fairy blossoms, a' the sweeter they were wee.

Come awa', my bairnie, for your bawbee
Rosy cheekit apples ye shall ha'e three.
A' sae fou' o' hinny, they drappit frae the tree;
Like your bonny sel', a' the sweeter they are wee.

=======James Ballantine.





THE SLEEPY LADDIE.

ARE ye no gaun to wauken th' day, ye rogue?
Your parritch is ready and cool in the cog,
Auld baudrons sae gaucy, and Tam o' that ilk
Would fain ha'e a drap o' the wee laddie's milk.

There's a wee birdie singing-get up, get up!
And listan, it says tak' a whup, tak' a whup!
But I'll kittle his bosie - a far better plan-
And pouther his pow wi' a watering can.

There's a house redd up like a palace, I'm sure,
That a pony might dance a jig on the floor;
And father is coming, so wauken and meet,
And welcome him hame wi' your kisses sae sweet.

It's far i' the day now, and brawly ye ken,
Your father has scarcely a minute to spen';
But so blink o' his wifie and bairn on her knee,
He says lightens his toil, tho' sair it may be.

So up to your parritch, and on wi' your claes;
There's a fire that might warm the cauld Norlan braes;
For a coggie weel fill'd and a clean fire-en'
Should mak' ye jump up, and gae skelping ben.

=======William Miller.





MOTHER'S PET.

AIR - "_The maid that tends the goats._"

MOTHER'S bairnie, mother's dawtie,
Wee wee steering stumping tottie,
Bonnie dreamer, - guileless glee
Lights thy black and laughing e'e.
Frae thy rosy dimpled cheek-
Frae thy lips sae saft and sleek,
Aulder heads than mine might learn
Truths worth kenning, bonnie bairn.

Gabbing fairie! fondly smiling!
A' a mother's cares beguiling;
Peacefu' may thy fortune be,
Blythesome braird o' purity.
Ne'er may poortith cauld and eerie
Mak' thy heart o' kindness wearie;
Nor misfortune, sharp and stern,
Blight thy bloom, my bonnie bairn.

Stourie, stoussie, gaudie brierie!
Dinging a' things tapsalteerie;
Jumping at the sunny sheen,
Flickering on thy pawky een.
Frisking, lisping, fleeching fay,
Dinna towt poor baudrons sae!
Frae her purring kindness learn
What ye awe me, bonnie bairn.

=======John Crawford.





LEARN YOUR LESSON.

AIR - "_The Laird o' Cockpen._"

YE'LL no learn your lesson by greeting, my man,
Ye'll never come at it by greeting, my man,
=No ae word can ye see, for the tear in your ee,
But just set your heart till't, for brawly ye can.

If ye'll like your lesson, it's sure to like you,
The words then so glibly would jump to your mou,
=Ilk ane to its place a' the ithers would chase,
Till the laddie would wonder how clever he grew.

O who would be counted a dunse or a snool,
To gape like a gomerel, and greet like a fool,
=Sae fear'd, like a coof, for the taws ower his loof,
And lsugh'd at by a' the wee bairns in the school!

Ye'll greet till ye greet yoursel' stupid and blind,
And then no a word in the morning ye'll mind;
=But cheer up your heart, and ye'll soon ha'e your part
For a' things come easy when bairns are inclin'd.

=======Alex Smart.





THE TRUANT.

AIR - "_When the kye come hame._"

WEE Sandy in the corner
=Sits greeting on a stool,
And sair the laddie rues
=Playing truant frae the school;
Then ye'll learn frae silly Sandy,
=Wha's gotten sic a fright,
To do naething through the day
=That may gar ye greet at night.

He durstna venture hame now,
=Nor play, though e'er as fain,
And ilka ane he met wi'
=He thought them sure to ken
And started at ilk whin bush,
=Though it was braid daylight-
Sae do naething through the day
=That may gar ye greet at night.

Wha winna be advised
=Are sure to rue ere lang;
And muckle pains it costs them
=To do the thing that's wrang,
When they wi' half the fash o't
=Might aye be in the right,
And do naething through the day
=That would gar them greet at night.

What fools are wilfu' bairns
=Who misbehave frae hame!
There'e something in the breast aye
=That tells them they're to blame,
And then when comes the gloamin,
=They're in a waefu' plight!-
Sae do naething through the day
=That may gar ye greet at night.

=======Alex Smart.





MY AIN KINDLY MINNIE.

AIR - "_Over the water to Charlie._"

"My ain kindly minnie, when ance I'm a man,
==I'll big a wee housie, sae cosie,
And, O! I'll be kind, and be gude to you than,
==For cuddling me now in your bosie.
Dry up your saut tears that sae thickly now fa',
==What for are ye greetin' sae sairly?
Tho' my daddie lie deep in the sea, far awa'!
==Has he no left ye me his ain Charlie?"

"Oh, bless ye, my darling, ance mair I'm mysel',
==Your sweet rosy lips they reprove me:
How sinfu' it is on my sorrows to dwell,
==When thy dad lives in thee still to love me.
I will live on to love ye, my bonnie wee man!
==Oh! yet we'll be happy and cosie,
And when heaven sees fitting to close my short span,
==Then I'll lay my auld head on your bosie."

=======Robert L. Malone.





THE FATHER'S KNEE.

AIR - "_Buy broom besoms._"

O! HAPPY is the mother o' ilk little pet,
Who has a happy father by the ingle set.
Wi' ae wee tottum sleeping 'neath its mother's ee,
Anither tottum creeping up its father's knee.
=Aye rocking, rocking, aye rocking ree,
=Puing at his stocking, climbing up his knee.

Although our wee bit bigging there be few who ken,
Beneath our theekit rigging, bien's the but and ben.
Although about the creepy bairnies canna gree,
They cuddle, when they're sleepy, on their father's knee.
=They're aye wink, winking, wi' the sleepy ee,
=Or aye jink, jinking, round their father's knee.

Although the sun o' summer scarce glints through the boal,
O! kindly is the glimmer o' our candle coal.
And bright the rays o' glory stream frae heaven hie,
When gude grandsire hoary bends his aged knee:
=Baith the parents kneeling by their totts sae wee-
=Holy is the feeling offered on the knee.

I wonder gin in palace, or in lordly ha',
Their hearts are a' as happy as in our cot sae sma'-
Gin the Royal Mother can her lassies see,
Cuddling their wee brother on their father's knee,
=What to her kind bosie are her kingdoms three,
=Unless her totts are cosie on their father's knee!

=======James Ballantine.





CREEP AFORE YE GANG.

CREEP awa', my bairnie, oreep afore ye gang,
Cock ye baith your lugs to your auld Granny's sang;
Gin ye gang as far ye will think the road lang-
Creep awa', my bairnie, creep afore ye gang.

Creep awa', my bairnie, ye're ower young to learn
To tot up and down yet, my bonnie wee bairn;
Better creeping cannie, than fa'ing wi' a bang,
Duntin' a' your wee brow, - creep afore ye gang.

Ye'll creep, and ye'll laugh, and ye'll nod to your mother,
Watching ilka step o' your wee dousy brother;
Rest ye on the floor till your wee limbs grow strang,
And ye'll be a braw chield yet. - creep afore ye gang.
The wee birdie fa's when it tries ower soon to flee;
Folks are sure to tumble when they climb ower hie;
They wha dinna walk aright, are sure to come to wrang,-
Creep awa', my bairnie, creep afore ye gang.

=======James Ballantine.





DINNA FEAR THE DOCTOR.

AIR - "_Gin a body meet a body._"

O DINNA fear the doctor,
=He comes to mak' ye weel,
To nurse ye like a tender flower,
=And your wee head to heal;
He'll bring the bloom back to your cheek,
=The blythe blink to your ee,
An't werena for the doctor,
=My bonnie bairn might dee.

O who would fear the doctor!
=His pouthers, pills, and a';
Ye just a wee bit swither gi'e,
=And then the taste's awa'!
He'll mak' ye sleep as sound's a tap,
=And rise as light's a flee,-
An't werena for the doctor,
=My bonnie bairn might dee.

A kind man is the doctor,
=As mony poor folk ken;
He spares nae toil by day or night
=To ease them o' their pain;
And O he lo'es the bairnies weel!
=And tak's them on his knee,-
An't werena for the doctor,
=My bonnie bairn might dee.

=======Alex Smart.





THE WONDERFU' WEAN.

AIR - "_The Campbells are coming._"

OUR wean's the most wonderfu' wean e'er I saw,
It would tak' me a lang summer day to tell a'
When he sleeps like a peerie, 'tween father and me.
For in his quiet turns, siccan questions he'll speir:-
How the moon can stick up in the sky that's sae clear?
What gars the wind blaw? and whar frae comes the rain
He's a perfect divert-he's a wonderfu' wean.

Or who was the first bodie's father? and wha
Made the very first snaw-shower that ever did fa'?
And who made the first bird that sang on a tree?
And the water that sooms a' the ships in the sea?-
But after I've told him as weel as I ken,
Again he begins wi' his who? and his when?
And he looks aye sae watchfu' the while I explain,-
He's as auld as the hills-he's an auld-farrant wean.

And folk who ha'e skill o' the lump, on the head,
Hint there's mae ways than toiling o' winning ane's bread
How he'll be a rich man, and ha'e men to work for him,
Wi' a kyte like a bailie's, shug shugging afore him;
Wi' a face like the moon, sober, sonsy, and douce,
And a back, for its breadth, like the side o' a house.
'Tweel I'm unco ta'en up wi't, they mak' a' sae plain;-
He's just a town's talk - he's a by-ord'nar wean!

I ne'er can forget sic a laugh as I gat,
To see him put on father's waistcoat and hat:
Then the lang-leggit boots gaed sae far ower his knees,
The tap loops wi' his fingers he grippit wi' ease,
Then he march'd thro' the house, he march'd but, he march'd ben,
Like ower mony mae o' our great-little men,
That I leugh clean outright, for I couldna contain,
He was sic a conceit-sic an ancient-like wean.

But mid a' his daffin' sic kindness he shows,
That he's dear to my heart as the dew to the rose;
And the unclouded hinnie - beam aye in his ee,
Mak's him every day dearer and dearer to me.
Though fortune be saucy, and dorty, and dour,
And gloom through her fingers, like hills through a shower,
When bodies ha'e got ae bit bairn o' their ain,
How he cheers up their hearts,-he's the wonderfu' wean.

=======William Miller.





BAIRNIES, COME HAME.

AIR - "_Logic o' Buchan._"

THE sun's awa' down to his bed in the sea,
And the stare will be out on their watch in a wee:
The beasts ha'e gane hame in their coverts to rest,
And ilka wee bird's cuddled down in its nest;
The kye are a' sta'd, and there's no a wee lamb
But has cower'd itsel' down by the side o' its dam;
The rose and the gowan are closing their leaves,
And the swallow's last twitter is hush'd in the eaves;
And it's time that gude weans were a' doing the same,-
Come hame to your downy dreams! bairnies, come hame!

Come hame! frae your howfs, down amang the green corn,
Where the lee rigg is lown, and be up in the morn;
Be up in the morn! when the sun's glinting thro'
Wi' his beams 'mang the blossoms to lick up the dew:
Frae your bonnie green dens on the sides o' the wood,
Where the blaeberry blooms, and the wild roses bud,
And warms for your play-ground the gowany braes,
By the burn where your mammies are tending their claes:
Aye! be up in the morn to your sportive wee game-
But now that the gloamin' fa's, bairnies, come hame.

Come hame! for the bat is abroad in his hour,
And the howlet is heard frae the auld hoary tower-
Come hame! and your fathers will daut ilka brow,
A mother's warm welcome is waiting for you.
Ah! aft, when lang years ha'e pass'd over your prime,
Your changed hearts will turn to this innocent time,
And the sunshiny past, wi' its love-lighted gleams,
Will rise on your waking thoughts - smile in your dreams;
Then your hearts will fill fu', as ye breathe the loved name
Of her whose soft smile nae mair welcomes ye hame.

=======Robt. L. Malone.





CASTLES IN THE AIR.

THE bonnie, bonnie bairn, who sits poking in the ase,
Glowering in the fire wi' his wee round face;
Laughing at the fuffin' lowe, what sees he there?
Ha! the young dreamer's bigging castles in the air.

His wee chubby face, and his touzie curly pow,
Are laughing and nodding to the dancing lowe;
He'll brown his rosy cheeks, and singe his sunny hair,
Glowering at the imps wi' their castles in the air.

He sees muckle castles towering to the moon!
He sees little sodgers pu'ing them a' doun!
Worlds whomling up and doun, bleezing wi' a flare,-
See how he loups! as they glimmer in the air.

For a' sae sage he looks, what can the laddie ken?
He's thinking upon naething, like mony mighty men;
A wee thing mak's us think, a sma' thing make us stare,-
There are mair folk than him bigging castles in the air.

Sic a night in winter may weel mak' him cauld:
His chin upon his buffy hand will soon mak' him auld;
His brow is brent sae braid, O pray that daddy Care
Would let the wean alane wi' his castles in the air!

He'll glower at the fire! and he'll keek at the light!
But mony sparkling stars are swallowed up by Night;
Aulder een than his are glamoured by a glare,
Hearts are broken, heads are turned, wi' castles in the air.

=======James Ballantine.





THE WATCH DOG.

AIR - "_The British Grenadiers._"

Bow-wow-wow! it's the muckle watch dog,
==I ken by his honest bark;
Bow-wow-wow! says the muckle watoh dog,
==When he hears a foot in the dark.
No a breath can stir but he's up wi' a wirr!
==And a big bow-wow gie's he,
And wi' tail on end, he'll the house defend,
==Mair siccar than lock or key.

When we sleep sound, he takes his round,
==A sentry ower us a',
Through the lang dark night till braid daylight,
==He fleys the thieves awa'.
But through the hale day wi' the bairns he'll play,
==And daff about in the sun;
On his back astride they may safely ride,
==For weel does he lo'e their fun.

Wi' a cogie fu' to his gratefu' mou',
==How he wags his trusty tail!
And weel does he like a bane to pike,
==Or a lick o' the lithey kail.
By a' he's kenn'd as a faithfu' friend,
==Nae flattering tongue has he,
And we a' may learn frae the muckle watch dog
==Baith faithfu' and fond to be,

=======Alex Smart.





THE BASHFU BAIRN.

AIR - "_Saw ye my father?_"

THE bashfu' wee laddie! what makes him sae shy?
=And what is't that gars him think shame?
Or how does it come that the blatest outbye
=Are often the bauldest at hame?
A stranger might think he wae sulky or doure;
=For scarcely a word will he speak,
But hangs down his head, like a wee modest flower,
=To hide the warm blush on his cheek.

'Mang rin-ther'-out laddies he's counted a snool:
=He cares na for bools nor for ba's;
But yet he's a match for the best at the school-
=He ne'er gets a tip o' the taws.
And aye when he plays wi' the bairns in the house,
=The cock o' the roost he maun be;
He's bauld as a bantam, and craws there sae crouse,
=Nae bairn can be brisker than he.

There's mair in his head, or I'm sairly mista'en,
=Than ye'll find in some auld-farrant men;
Sae lang are his lugs, and sae gleg are his een,
=He notices mair than ye ken.
Sometimes he'll sit still like a howlet sae grave,-
=His thoughts then can naebody tell;
And sometimes he wanders awa' frae the lave,
=And speaks, like a gowk, to himsel'!

Be kind to the laddie that's bashfu' and shy!
=He'll be a braw fellow belyve;
Ye'll drive him dementit if harshness ye try-
=Ye'll lead him, but never can drive.
Some think him half-witted, and some think him wise,
=And some think him naething ava;
But tent him wi' love, if ye'll take my advice,
=And he'll yet be the flower o' them a'.

=======Alex Smart.





A MOTHER'S CARES AND TOILS.

AIR - "_Willie was a wanton wag._"

WAUKRIFE wee thing, O!  I'm wearie
=Warsling wi' you late and ear',
Turning a' things tapsalteerie,
=Tearing mutches, towzling hair,
Stumping wi' your restless feetie,
=Ettling, like the lave, to gang;
Frae the laughter to the greetie,
=Changing still the hale day lang.

Now wi' whisker'd baudrons playing,
=By the ingle beeking snug,
Now its wee bit leggie laying
=O'er the sleeping collie dog;
Thumping now its patient minnie,
=Scaulding syne its bonnie sel',
Then wi' kisses, sweet as hinnie,
=Saying mair than tongue can tell.

O! its wearie, wearie winkers,
=Close they'll no for a' my skill,
Wide they'll glower, thae blue bit blinkers,
=Though the sun's ayont the hill.
Little they for seasons caring,
=Morning, gloamin', night, or noon,
Lang's they dow, they'll aye keep staring,
=Heeding neither sun nor moon.

E'en when sound we think him sleeping
=In his cozie cradle-bed,
If we be na silence keeping,
=Swith! he's gleg as ony gled.
If the hens but gi'e a cackle,
=If the cock but gi'e a craw,
If the wind the window shake, he'll
=Skirl like wild aboon them a'.

Who a mother's toils may number?
=Who a mother's cares may feel?
Let her bairnie wake or slumber,
=Be it sick or be it weel!
O! her heart had need be tender,
=And her love had need be strang,
Else the lade she bears would bend her
=Soon the drearie mools amang.

=======W. Ferguson.





ERRAND RINNING MARY.

AIR - "_O'er the muir amang the heather._"

I NEVER saw a bairnie yet
=An errand rin mair fleet than Mary,
And O she's proud the praise to get
=When hame she trips as light's a fairy.
In ae wee hand the change she grips,
=And what she's sent for in the other;
Then like a lintie in she skips,
=Sae happy aye to please her mother.

She never stops wi' bairns to play,
=But a' the road as she gaes trotting,
Croons to hersel' what she's to say,
=For fear a word should be forgotten;
And then, as clear as A B C,
=The message tells without a blunder,
And like the little eident bee,
=She's hame again-a perfect wonder.

It's no for hire that Mary rins,
=For what ye gi'e she'll never tease ye
The best reward the lassie wins
=Is just the pleasure aye to please ye.
If bairns would a' example tak',
=And never on their errands tarry,
What happy hames they aye would mak',
=Like our wee errand-rinning Mary.

=======Alex Smart.





THE SILENT CHILD.

AIR - "_Handel's Dead March._"

"WHAT ails brother Johnny, he'll no look at me,
But lies looking up wi' a half steekit ee?
Oh! cauld is his hand, and his face pale and wee-
What ails brother Johnny, he'll no speak to me?"

"Alack, my wee lammie! your brother's asleep,
He looksna, he speaksna-yet, dear, dinna weep;
Ye'll break mother's heart gin ye gaze on him sae;
He's dreaming-he'e gazing-on friends far away!"

"Oh, who can he see like the friends that are here?
And where can he find hearts that lo'e him sae dear?
Just wauken him, mother! his brother to see,
I'll gi'e him the black frock my father ga'e me."

"Your black frock, my bairn, ah! your brother is dead!
That symbol o' death sends a stound through my head.
I made mysel' trow he wad wauken ance mair;
But now he's in Heaven-he's waiting us there."

=======James Ballantine.





THE BIRD'S NEST.

AIR - "_John Anderson, my jo._"

O WHO would harry the wee bird's nest,
=That sings so sweet and clear,
And bigs for its young a cozy biel',
=In the spring-time o' the year;
That feeds its gapin' gorlins a',
=And haps them frae the rain?
O who would harry the wee bird's nest,
=And gi'e its bosom pain?

I wouldna harry the lintie's nest,
=That whistles on the spray;
I wouldna rob the lav'rock,
=That sings at break of day;
I wouldna rob the shilfa,
=That chants so sweet at e'en;
Nor plunder wee wee Jenny Wren
=Within her bower o' green.

For birdies are like bairnies,
=That dance upon the lea;
They winna sing in cages
=So sweet's in bush or tree.
They're just like bonnie bairnies,
=That mithers lo'e sae weel-
And cruel, cruel is the heart
=That would their treasures steal.

=======Alex Smart.





THE WIDOW TO HER BAIRNS.

AIR - "_The Miller of Dee._"

Now, bairnies, mind your mother's words
=For kind to you she's been,
And mony a waukrife night she's had
=To keep ye tosh an' clean-
And mony a shift she's ta'en to mak'
=Her sonsie stouries braw;
For through her lanely widowhood
=Her back's been at the wa'.
But ye'll yet cheer the widow's hearth,
=And dry her watery een,
And when ye've bairnies o' your ain,
=Ye'll mind what ye ha'e been.

The bitter sneer o' witless pride,
=In sorrow ye maun thole,
Sae lang as poortith on our hearth
=Cours ower a cauldrife coal;
But when ye've brought your beads aboon
=Your dour, your early lot,
And rowing grit wi' happiness,
=Your cares ye've a' forgot;
Then cozie mak' the widow's hearth,
=And dry her tearfu' een,
And when ye've plenty o' your ain,
=Oh, think what ye ha'e been.

What's fortune but a passing gleam
=Of pleasure, toil, and care;
The stanie heart, o' worldly gear,
=Gets aft the better share;
But gi'e ye aye wi' willing heart
=What mercy sends to cure
The troubles o' the lowly cot,
=The sorrows o' the poor.
Then warm the widow's lanely hearth,
=And dry her tearfu' een,
And when your cup o' pleasure's fu',
=Oh, think what ye ha'e been.

=======John Crawford.





OUR AIN FIRE-END.

AIR - "_Kelvin Grove._"

WHEN the frost is on the grun',
=Keep your ain fire-end,
For the warmth o' summer's sun
=Has our ain fire-end;
When there's dubs ye might be lair'd in,
Or snaw ye could be smoor'd in,
The best flower in the garden
=Is our ain fire-end.

You and father are sic twa!
=Round our ain fire-end,
He mak's rabbits on the wa',
=At our ain fire-end.
Then the fun as they are mumping,
When, to touch them ye gae stumping,
They're set on your tap a' jumping,
=At our ain fire-end.

Sic a bustle as ye keep
=At our ain fire-end,
When ye on your whistle wheep,
=Round our ain fire-end;
Now, the dog maun get a saddle,
Then a cart's made o' the ladle,
To please ye as ye daidle
=Round our ain fire-end.

When your head's lain on my lap,
=At our ain fire-end,
Taking childhood's dreamless nap,
=At our ain fire-end;
Then frae lug to lug I kiss ye,
An' wi' heart o'erflowing bless ye,
And a' that's gude I wish ye,
=At our ain fire-end.

When ye're far, far frae the blink
=O' our ain fire-end,
Fu' monie a time ye'll think
=On our in fire-end;
On a' your gamesome ploys,
On your whistle and your toys,
And ye'll think ye hear the noise
=O' our ain fire-end.

=======William Miller.





GI'E AS YE WAD TAK'.

AIR - "_Auld Langsyne._"

MY bairnies dear, when ye gang out,
=Wi' ither bairns to play,
Tak' tent o' every thing ye do,
=O' every word ye say;
Frae tricky wee mischievous loons
=Keep back, my dears, keep back;
And aye to a' such usage gi'e
=As ye would like to tak'.

To thraw the mouth, or ca' ill names,
=Is surely very bad;
Then, a' sich doings still avoid,
=They'd mak' your mother sad.
To shield the feckless frae the strong,
=Be neither slow nor slack;
And aye to a' such usage gi'e
=As ye would like to tak'.

Ne'er beat the poor dumb harmless tribe,
=Wi' either whip or stick;
The mildest beast, if harshly used,
=May gi'e a bite or kick.
On Silly Sam, or crooked Tam,
=The heartless joke ne'er crack;
But aye to a' such usage gi'e
=As ye would like to tak'.

A kindly look, a soothing word,
=To ilka creature gi'e;
We're a' ONE MAKER'S handyword,
=Whatever our degree.
We're a' the children o' HIS care,
=Nae matter white or black;
Then still to a' such usage gi'e
=As ye would like to tak'.

=======Alex Rodger.





THE IDLER.

AIR - "_The Miller o' Dee._"

GAE awa' to your task, and be eident, my man,
==And dinna sit dozing there;
But learn to be busy, and do what ye can,
==For ye neither are sickly nor sair.
It's laziness ails ye, the sluggard's disease,
==Who never has will for his wark,
Though it cures a' the tantrums that idle folk tease,
==And makes them as blythe as the lark.

O shame on the sloven, the lubberly loon!
==He kensna the ills he maun dree,
Like a dog in the kennel he flings himself down,
==And the poor beggar's brother is he.
So up to your task now, and then to your play,
==And fright the auld tyrant awa';
For sloth's the worst master that laddie's oan ha'e,
==If ance in his clutches they fa':

He cleeds them in rags, and he hungers them too,
==For nane o' his subjects can thrive;
They're aye 'mang the foremost when mischief's to do,
==But they're naething but drones in the hive,
O dear, what a picture!  Would I be his slave?
==It weel may make industry sweet,
And teach idle laddies to strive like the lave,
==Who win baith their class and their meat.

Your father and mother ha'e toiled for ye sair,
==And keepit ye cozie and clean;
But think how ye'll do, when ye ha'e them nae mair,
==And maun fight through the world your lane!
Then rouse like a hero, wi' might and wi' main,
==For time never stops on his way;
The present hour's a' we can weel ca' our ain,
==And nane can be sure o' a day.

=======Alex Smart.





THE HERD LADDIE.

AIR - "_When the kye come hame._"

IT'S a lang time yet till the kye gae hame,
=It's a weary time yet till the kye gae hame;
Till the lang shadows fa' in the sun's yellow flame,
=And the birds sing gude night, as the kye gae hame.

Sair langs the herd laddie for gloamin's sweet fa',
=But slow moves the sun to the hills far awa';
In the shade o' the broom-bush how fain would he lie,
=But there's nae rest for him when he's herding the kye.

They'll no be content wi' the grass on the lea,
=For do what he will to the corn aye they'll be;-
The weary wee herd laddie to pity there is nane,
=Sae tired and sae hungry wi' herding his lane.

When the bee's in its byke, and the bird in its nest,
=And the kye in the byre, that's the hour he lo'es best;
Wi' a fu' cog o' brose he sleeps like a stane,-
=But it scarce seems a blink till he's wauken'd again.

=======Alex Smart.





O LEESE ME ON THEE, BONNIE BAIRN.

AIR - "_Kind Robin lo'es me._"

O LEESE me on thee, bonnie bairn!
Sae sweet, sae wise, sae apt to learn,
And true as loadstone to the airn,
=Thou dearly, dearly, lo'es me.
Thou'rt just thy daddy's wee-er sel',
Fresh-blooming as the heather bell;
While blythe as lammie on the fell,
=Thy frisking shows thou lo'es me.

Thy comely brow, thy ee's deep blue,
Thy cheek of health's clear rosy hue;
And O! thy little laughing mou',
=A' tell me how thou lo'es me.
Reclining softly on this breast,
O how thou mak'st my bosom blest,
To see thee smiling, mid thy rest,
=And ken how much thou lo'es me.

Wi' mother's ee I fondly trace
In thee thy daddy's form and face,
Possess'd of every manly grace,
=And mair-a heart that lo'es me.
Lang be thou spared, sweet bud, to be
A blessing to thy dad and me;
While some fond mate shall sing to thee,
="Dear laddie, how thou lo'es me."

=======Alex Rodger.





COCKIE.LEERIE-LA.

AIR - "_John Anderson, my jo._"

THERE is a country gentleman, who leads a thrifty life,
Ilk morning scraping orra things thegither for his wife-
His coat o' glowing ruddy brown, and wavelet wi' gold-
A crimson crown upon his head, well-fitting one so bold

If ithers pick where he did scrape, he brings them to disgrace,
For, like a man o' mettle, he - siclike meets face to face;
He gi'es the loons a lethering, a crackit croon to claw-
There is nae gaun about the bush wi' Cockie-leerie-la!

His step is firm and evenly, his look both sage and grave-
His bearing bold, as if he said, "I'll never be a slave;"
And, tho' he hauds his head fu' high, he glinteth to the grun,
Nor fyles his silver spurs in dubs wi' glow'ring at the sun.

And whiles I've thocht had he a hand wharwi' to grip a stickie,
A pair o' specks across his neb, and round his neck a dickie,
That weans wad laughing haud their sides, and cry- "Preserve us a'!
Ye're some frien' to Doctor Drawblood, douce Cockie-leerie-la!"

So learn frae him to think nae shame to work for what ye need,
For he that gapes till he be fed, may gape till he be dead;
And if ye live in idleness, ye'll find unto your cost,
That they who winna work in heat, maun hunger in the frost.

And hain wi' care ilk sair-won plack, and honest pride will fill
Your purse wi' gear-e'en far-aff frien's will bring grist to your mill;
And if, when grown to be a man, your name's without a flaw,
Then rax your neck, and tune your pipes to-Cockie-leerie-la!

=======William Miller.





HOGMANAY.

AIR - "_The Young May Moon._"

=COME, bairns a', to your Hogmanay,
=The morn, ye ken, is New-year's day;
The cauld wind blaws, and the snaw down fa's,
=But merrily, merrily dance away.

=There's Johnny Frost wi' his auld white pow,
=Would fain be in to the chimla lowe;
But if he should come, he'll flee up the lum
=In a bleeze that his frozen beard will thow!

=He's stoppit the burnie's todling din,
=Hung frosty tangles outowre the linn;
The flowers are a' dead, and the wee birds fled,
=But they'll a' be back when the spring comes in.

=There's mony a ane gane sin' the last New-year,
=But let us be happy as lang's we're here;
We've aye been fed, and cozily clad,
=And kindness will sweeten our canty cheer.

=We'll no sleep a wink till the year come in,
=Till the clock chap twal, and the fun begin;
And then wi' a cheer to the new-born year,
=How the streets will ring wi' the roaring din!

=A blythe new year we wish ye a',
=And mony returns to bless ye a';
And may ilk ane ye see aye cantier be-
=While round the ingle we kiss ye a'.

=So bairn, come a' to your Hogmanay,
=The morn, ye ken, is New-year's day;
Though the cauld wind blaws, and the snaw down fa's,
=Yet merrily, merrily dance away.

=======Alex Smart.





WILLIE'S AWA'.

AIR - "_Nannie's awa'._"

LIKE wee birdies couring when frosty winds blaw,
The bairns a' look dowie, for Willie', awa'!
The brae o' the burnie looks wither'd and bare,
Though it bloom'd aye sae bonnie when Willie was there.

His fond heart at parting was ower fu' to speak,
He tried aye to smile, though the tear wet his cheek;
And when wee Mary waukened-her Willie awa'-
She grat as her young heart would bursted in twa.

Now Jamie maun gae to the school a' his lane,
And lang sair for Willie to come back again;
The burn that sang sweetly to them at their play,
Looks sullen and drumly, and Jamie looks wae.

The auld thorny tree, where he carv'd his ain name,
Was a' clad wi' blossoms when Willie left hame;
Now Jamie gaes haunting the dowie haw-tree,
And thinking on Willie brings tears to his ee.

Its leaves a' will wither when autumn winds blaw,
But wi' spring it will blossom as white as the snaw;
Then linties will sing in its branches o' green,
And a join to welcome our Willie again.

And O we'll be happy when Willie comes back,
And round our ain ingle sae kindly we'll crack;
He'll tell o' the ferlies and folks that he saw,
And hear a' that happen'd since he gaed awa'.

=======Alex Smart.





THE BUDS NOW OPEN TO THE BREEZE.

THE buds now open to the breeze,
=The birds begin to sing,
The gowan's keeking thro' the sward,
=To hear the voice o' spring.
Fu' blythe the maukin mumps the sward,
=Wi' pleasure in its ee,
Or pu's the budding heather bell,
=A type, my wean, o' thee.
Unnumber'd webs o' fairy weft,
=Wi' pearlie dew-drops weet,
Are spread ower sprouting furze and fern,
=To bathe my bairnie's feet.

Then dinna dicht, my drousie tot,
=The silken fringe awa',
That shades the bonniest ee o' blue
=That ere fond mother saw!
Twa hours an' mair the gouldie's lilt
=I've heard sae shrill an' sweet;
And mony a thistle tap has fa'n
=Beneath the sangster's feet.
Then, rise, ye roguie! - dinna think
=That minnie means ye harm,
Saft kisses for your smiles she'll gi'e,
=My sweat! wee, sleepy bairn.

Down by the burnie's brierie banks,
=Where water-lilies blaw,
Nae mair is seen the dazzling sheen
=Of sheets o' frost and snaw;
But flowers and bowers, wi' balmy showers,
=Are budding in the breeze;
Nae mournfu' wail o' dowie bird
=Is heard amang the trees.
Then rise, my wee, wee winsome wean!
=This lesson ye maun learn,
That spring-time winna bide for thee,
=Nor me, my bonnie bairn.

=======John Crawford.





SPRING.

THE Spring comes linking and jinking through the woods,
Opening wi' gentle hand the bonnie green and yellow buds-
There's flowers and showers, and sweet sang o' little bird,
And the gowan wi' his red croon peeping thro' the yird.

The hail comes rattling end brattling such an' keen,
Dauding and blauding, though red set the sun at een;
In bonnet and wee loof the weans kep and look for mair,
Dancing thro'ther wi' the white pearls shining in their hair.

We meet wi' blythesome an' kythesome cheerie weans,
Daffing aud laughing far a-doon the leafy lanes,
Wi' gowans and buttercups busking the thorny wands,
Sweetly singing wi' the flower branch waving in their hands.

'Boon a' that's in thee, to win me, sunny Spring!
Bricht cluds and green buds, and sangs that the birdies sing;
Flower-dappled hill-side, and dewy beech sae fresh at e'en,
Or the tappie-toorie fir-tree shining a' in green-

Bairnies, bring treasure and pleasure mair to me,
Stealing and spelling up to fondle on my knee!-
In spring-time the young things are blooming sae fresh and fair,
That I canna, Spring, but love and bless thee evermair.

=======William Miller.





BE A COMFORT TO YOUR MOTHER.

AIR - "_O'er the muir amang the heather._"

COME here, my laddie, come awa'!
=And try your first new breekies on ye;
Weel, weel I like to see you braw,
=My ain wee soncy smiling Johnnie!
Strip aff, strip aff! your bairnish claes,
=And be a laddie like your brother,
And gin you're blest wi' health and days,
=Ye'll be a pleasure to your mother.

Now rin and look ye in the glass!
=And see how braw you're now, and bonnie;
Wha e'er wad think a change o' claes
=Could mak' sic change on my wee Johnnie?
You're just your daddy's picture now!
=As like as ae bean's like anither!
And gin ye do like him, I trow,
=Ye'll be an honour to your mither.

But upward as ye grow apace,
=By truth and right keep ever steady;
And gin life's storms ye whiles maun face,
=A ye meet them firmly like your daddy.
If steep and rugged be your way.
=Ne'er look behind nor stand and swither!
But set a stout heart to the brae,
=And be a comfort to your mither.

=======Alex Rodger.





PACE EGGS.

THE morn brings Pace, bairns!
=And happy will ye be,
Wi' a' your bonnie dyed eggs,
=And ilka ane has three,
Wi' colours like the rainbow,
=And ne'er a crack nor flaw,
Ye may row them up end row them down,
=Or toss them like a ba'.

There's some o' them are rosy red,
=And some o' them are green,
And some are o' the bonnie blue
=That blinks in Mary's een;
And some o them like purple bells,
=And others like the bloom
O' the bonnie gowden tassels
=That blossom on the broom.

Ye'll toss them up the foggy banks,
=And row them down the brae,
Where burnies sing to sweet wee flowers,
=And milk-white lammies play;
And when they burst their tinted shells,
=And a' in fragments flee,
The crumbs will feed the bonnie bird
=That sings upon the tree.

=======Alex Smart.





MAY MORNING.

AIR - "_Bonnie Dundee._"

HURRAH! for the morning, the merry May morning!
=Come, rouse up my laddie! the summer's begun,
The cock has been crawing an hour sin' the dawning,
=And gowans and buttercups glint in the sun.
Frae clover fields springing the skylark is singing,
=And straining his throat wi' a sweet hymn o' joy;
The burnie rins glancing, and sings as it's dancing,
="Come, try me a race, now, my bonnie wee boy."

While Johnnie lies winking, the sun will be drinking
=The dew frae the primrose and bonnie blue bell,
Like fresh roses blowing his cheeks will be glowing,
=This morning, when washed in the dews o' the dell.
Awa' wi' your gaunting! the linties are chaunting,
=The bees are abroad in the sweet scented air;
They tell by their humming the roses are coming,
=To busk a gay garland for Johnnie to wear.

In wide circles wheeling the swallow comes spelling,
=Sweet bird o' the summer frae far ower the sea;
The lammies are jumping, and frisking, and romping,
=And dancing as blythe as the bairns on the lea.
Then up, my wee laddie, and come wi' your daddy,
=He'll lead ye to banks where the sweetest flowers blaw;
By the burnie down rowin', we'll pu' the May gowan,
=A necklace for Mary as white as the snaw.

=======Alex Smart.





THE SUNNY SUMMER MONTHS.

AIR - "_Jock o' Hazeldean._"

THE sultry, sunny summer months
=Are come wi' joy and glee,
And furzy fell, and rashy dell,
=Are fill'd wi' melody;
The roving rae, frae break o' day,
=Now roams frae break to burn,
Then who would think, my bairnies dear,
=That we were made to mourn?

The butterflee has flung awa'
=The shell that bound it fast,
And screen'd it frae the chilling breeze-
=The winter's bitter blast;
How like some moths o' mortal mould,
=It flutters round its urn!-
But dinna think, my bairnies dear,
=That we were made to mourn.

The lav'rock high in middle air,
=Is chirling loud and clear,
He early leaves his lowly lair,
=The cottar's toil to cheer;
Unvex'd by care he sings the joys
=That in his breastie burn,-
Then who would say, my bairnies dear,
=That we were made to mourn?

The song of nature's happiness
=Is heard o'er meadows green,
And opening to the fresh'ning breeze
=The blawart's bell is seen;
The fragrance o' some Eastern clime
=Is frae our plantin's borne,-
Then who can think, my bairnies, dear,
=That we were made to mourn?

The kye in languid listlessness
=Now seek the caller brook,
The streamlet's speckled finny tribe
=Now shun the barbed hook;
O who would grasp a gilded lure,
=And nature's riches spurn?
We camna here, my bairnies dear,
=For goud and gear to mourn.

The lambkins o'er the daisied dell,
=In gambols wild and free,
Enjoy the sweets, the halesome sweets,
=O' blissfu' liberty;
The fetters o' the prison-fauld
=The fleecy wanderers spurn,-
Oh! never think, my bairnies dear,
=That we were made to mourn.

=======John Crawford.





LADY SUMMER.

AIR - "_Blythe, blythe, and merry are we._"

BIRDIE, birdie, weet your whistle!
=Sing a sang to please the wean;
Let it be o' Lady Summer
=Walking wi' her gallant train!
Sing him how her gaucy mantle!
=Forest green trails ower the lea,
Broider'd frae the dewy hem o't
=Wi' the field flowers to the knee!

How her foot 's wi' daisies buskit,
=Kirtle o' the primrose hue,
And her ee sae like my laddie's,
=Glancing, laughing, loving blue!
How we meet on hill and valley,
=Children sweet as fairest flowers,
Buds and blossoms o' affection,
=Rosy wi' the sunny hours.

Sing him sic a sang, sweet birdie!
=Sing it ower and ower again;
Gar the notes fa' pitter patter,
=Like a shower o' summer rain.
"Hoot, toot, toot!" the birdie's saying,
="Who oan shear the rigg that's shorn?
Ye've sung brawlie simmer's ferlies,
=I'll toot on anither horn."

=======William Miller.





PETTING AT FOOD.

AIR - "_The Laird o' Cockpen._"

IF ye'll no tak' your breakfast, just let it alane!
The porridge can wait till ye're hungry again;
Though saucy e'en now, ye'll be glad o' them soon-
Sae tak' ye the pet now and lay down your spoon!

Ye'll weary for them ere they weary for you,
And when they grow cool they'll no blister your mou',
A twa three hours' fast might be guds for ye a',
And help aye to drive the ill humours awa'.

Yon fat little doggie that waddles alang!
Sae pamper'd and peching he scarcely can gang!
At daintiest dishes he turns up his nose,
But scrimp him a wee, he'll be blythe o' his brose.

There's nane kens the gude o' a thing till it's gane-
Yon barefitted laddie, ye met wi' yestreen,
Had he such a cogie he'd no let it cool-
Na! just let them stand till ye come frae the school.

The best cure for bairnies when nice wi' their meat,
Is fresh air o' morning and naething to eat;
Sae tak' your ain time, like the cattle out-bye-
Just eat when you're hungry and drink when you're dry.

=======Alex Smart.





THE ABSENT FATHER.

"O! MOTHER, what tak's my dear father awa',
When moor and when mountain are heapit wi' snaw-
When thick swirling drift dauds the dead sapless earth,
And a' thing is drear, save our ain cozie hearth?"

"The young hill-side lammies wou'd die wi' the cauld,
Wer't no for your father, who leads them a fauld;
His voice is well kenn'd by ilk poor mother ewe-
He's saving their lives while he's toiling for you."

"Gin e'er I'm man muckle, and poor father spared,
I'll mak' ye a leddy, and father a laird;
I'll brave the dour winter on mountain and lea,
And toil for ye baith, who hae toil'd sae for me."

"Come, lay your wee head on your ain minnie's knee!
And gaze in her face, wi' your ain father's ee!
The night settles down - O! I wish he were here-
Hush! is na that Collie's wouff? - maybe they're near!"

The door gets a dirl, and flees back to the wa',-
'Tis he! frae his bonnet he dauds aff the snaw-
"I'm here! my sweet son, and my bonnie wee dame!
Down Collie!  Be thankfu' we're a' now at hame."

=======James Ballantine.





YOUR DADDY'S FAR AT SEA.

AIR - "_My love's in Germanie._"

Your daddy's far at sea, bonnie bairn! bonnie bairn!
Your daddy's far at sea, bonny bairn!
=Your daddy's far at sea! winning gold for you and me,
And how happy yet we'll be! bonny bairn, bonnie bairn!
And how happy yet we'll be, bonnie bairn!

Your daddy's leal and true, bonnie bairn, bonnie bairn,
Your daddy's leal and true, bonnie bairn;
=Your daddy's leal and true, to your minnie and to you,
And beloved by all the crew, bonnie bairn, bonnie bairn,
And beloved by all the crew, bonnie bairn!

Then we'll pray for daddy's weal, bonnie bairn, bonnie bairn,
Then we'll pray for daddy's weal, bonnie bairn;
=We'll pray for daddy's weal, that distress he ne'er may feel,
While he guides the sheet or wheel, bonnie bairn, bonnie bairn,
While he guides the sheet or wheel, bonnie bairn!

Should hurricanes arise, bonnie bairn, bonnie bairn,
Should hurricanes arise, bonnie bairn,
=Should hurricanes arise, lashing seas up to the skies,
May his guide be the ALL-WISE, bonnie bairn, bonnie bairn,
May his guide be the ALL-WISE, bonnie bairn!

'Mid the tempest's gloomy path, bonnie bairn, bonnie bairn,
'Mid the tempest's gloomy path, bonnie bairn;
='Mid ths tempest's gloomy path, may he brave its wildest wrath,
While it strews the deep with death, bonnie bairn, bonnie bairn,
While it strews the deep with death, bonnie bairn!

And on wings of mercy borne, bonnie bairn, bonnie bairn,
And on wings of mercy borne, bonnie bairn;
=On wings of mercy borne, may he soon and safe return,
To make glad the hearts that mourn, bonnie bairn, bonnie bairn,
To make glad the hearts that mourn, bonnie bairn!

=======Alex Rodger.





THE WASHING.

AIR - "_Willie was a wanton Wag._"

BAULD wee birkie, what's the matter,
=That ye're raising sic a din?
Weel ye ken it's caller water
=Gi'es ye sic a bonnie skin;
Cease your spurring, tak' your washing,
=Syne ye'll get your milk and bread;
Gin ye dinna quit your splashing,
=I may douk ye ower the head.

Now it's ower, my bonnie dearie,
=There's a skin like driven snaw,
Lively, louping, plump wee peerie,
=See how soon I'll busk you braw;
Let me kame your pretty pow now,
=Let me shed your shining hair-
To your gambles! romp and row now,
=Whisk and whid round daddy's chair.

Now, ye funny frisking fairy!
=See how snod ye're now and sleek!
Water mak's you brisk and airy,
=Lights your ee and dyes your cheek;
O there's nought like being cleanly!
=Cleanliness is mair than wealth,
Let us cleed however meanly-
=Cleanliness gi'es joy and health.

=======Alex Rodger.





HAPPY HARVEST.

AIR - "_Of a' the airts the win' can blaw._"

AGAIN has happy harvest come
=To cheer ilk cottage hearth,
To sweeten lowly labour's toils
=Wi' happiness and mirth;
For lightsome hearts are ower the lawn,
=And plenty ower the lea,
Sae ye shall welcome harvest in,
=My bonnie bairns, wi' me.

The garden's tint its gaudy garb,
=The glebe its robe o' green,
For summer's sun the glade and glen
=Another shade has gi'en;
But love nae season kens but ane,
=Then come, my bairns, wi' me,
And welcome merry harvest in
=Wi a' its mirth and glee.

The lily's lost its loveliness,
=The thistle sheds its down,
The tulip's tint its summer braws,
=The buttercup its crown;
But fairer flowers are in the bowers
=O' love and charity,
Sae welcome merry harvest in,
=My bonnie bairns, wi' me.

The nut and slae, ower bank and brae,
=In rip'ning clusters hing,
And happy hearts, wi' harmless glee,
=Now gar the welkin ring;
The reapers reap, the gleaners glean,
=A cantie sight to see,
Then weloome merry harvest in,
=My bonnie bairns, wi' me.

The wren has left her cosie cot,
=Aboon you siller spring,
And haps in eerie laneliness,
=A waesome wearied thing;
But Nature feeds wi' open hand
=Ilk birdie on the tree,
Sae ye shall welcome harvest in,
=My bonnie bairns, wi' me.

The squirrel springs frae tree to tree;
=The eident ant has gaen
To sip the balmy sweets o' thrift,
=And share the joys o' hame;
And ye shall share a mother's care,
=And a' she has to gi'e-
Sae welcome merry harvest in,
=My bonnie bairns, wi' me.

=======John Crawford.





HAIRST.

AIR - "_Coming through the rye._"

THO' weel I lo'e the budding spring,
=I'll no misca' John Frost,
Nor will I roose the summer days
=At gowden autumn's cost;
For a' the seasons in their turn
=Some wished-for pleasures bring,
And hand in hand they jink about,
=Like weans at jingo-ring.

Fu' weel I mind how aft ye said,
=When winter nights were lang,
"I weary for the summer woods,
=The lintie's tittering sang;
But when the woods grew gay and green,
=And birds sang sweet and clear,
It then was, "When will hairst-time come,
=The gloaming o' the year?

Oh! hairet time's like a lipping cup
=That's gi'en wi' furthy glee!
The fields are fu' o' yellow corn,
=Red apples bend the tree;
The genty air, sae ladylike!
=Has on a scented gown,
And wi' an airy string she leads
=The thistle-seed balloon.

The yellow corn will porridge mak',
=The apples taste your mou',
And ower the stibble riggs I'll chase
=The thistle-down wi' you;
I'll pu' the haw frae aff the thorn,
=The red hip frae the brier-
For wealth hangs in each tangled nook
=In the gloaming o' the year.

Sweet Hope! ye biggit ha'e a nest
=Within my bairnie's breast-
Oh! may his trusting heart ne'er trow
=That whiles ye sing in jest;
Some coming joys are dancing aye
=Before his langing een,-
He sees the flower that isna blawn,
=And birds that ne'er were seen;-

The stibble rigg is aye ahin'!
=The gowden grain afore,
And apples drap into his lap,
=Or row in at the door!
Come hairst-time then unto my bairn!
=Drest in your gayest gear,
Wi' saft and winnowing win's to cool
=The gloaming o' the year!

=======William Miller.





GANG TO YOUR BEDS.

AIR - "_Miller o' Dee._"

HA'E done wi' your daffing, and gae to your beds,
=It's time ye were a' sleeping sound-
Nae thought o' the morn, or the school in your heads,
=Till morning and school-time come round!
I'll wager a plack ye'll be changing your sang,
=Nae laughing or merriment then!
It's ower bright a blink this, and canna last lang,
=And it's sure to be followed by rain!

Ye merry wee madcaps! when ance ye begin,
=Ilk ane might be tied wi' a strae.
Whisht! whisht! or ye'll wauken my bairn wi' your din,
=For aye ower the score ye maun gae.
Ye waukrife wee totums! ye've laughed now your fill,
=Sae try wha will first be asleep,
And think on poor bairns who would gladly lie still,
=If to your cozie bed they could creep!

When tether comes hame now, ye'll get a suprise!
=Ye'll soon hear his fit on the stair-
Ye're sweer to lie down, and ye're sweerer to rise,
=And ye'll no fa' asleep when ye're there.
But bairns eye at night should slip canny to bed,
=And think as they're closing their een,
That nane can be sure, when they lay down their head,
=If they'll rise i' the morning again.

=======Alex Smart.





KINDNESS TO SERVANTS.

Now what was yon ye said to May,
=Sae pettishly yestreen?
Ay! weel may ye think shame to tell
=How saucy ye ha'e been.
There's naething spoils a bonnie face
=Like sulks, in auld or young,-
And what can set a lassie waur
=Than an ill-bred, saucy tongue?

It's ill your part to jeer at May,
=To you she's aye been kind
And aft she's sung ye ower asleep,
=Lang, lang, ere ye can mind.
She make the meat, she works the wark,
=She cleans when ye but soil,
And what would helpless bairnies be
=Without the hands that toil?

The kindly look, the gentle word,
=Mak' friends o' a' ye see,
And gi'e a charm to ilka face,
=That nothing else can gi'e.
It's weel for bairns, wha ha'e a friend
=That watches them wi' care,
For when in fault they'll learn frae him
=To do the like nae mair.

=======Alex Smart.





THE WINTER'S COME AT LAST.

AIR - "_John Anderson, my jo._"

A BURNING sun nae langer flames aboon the greenwood shaw,
For cauldrife winter's keeking down through clouds o' sleet and snaw;
And the chirping o' the robin gars thy mother's heart be wae
For the sailor on the sea, and the shepherd on the brae.

The cuckoo lang has ta'en his flight for warmer climes than ours,
The nipping blasts ha'e reft us o' our sweetly scented flowers;
I'm glad to see my totties weel, but O my heart is wae
For the sailor on the sea, and the shepherd on the brae.

The swallow's sought a shelter in some sunny southern nook,
For weel it likes to skim aboon the sparkling siller brook;
Aye when it leaves our hills behind, my heart is ever wae
For the sailor on the sea, and the shepherd on the brae.

The corn craik now is never heard amang the rip'ning corn!
The lintie limps sae listlessly beneath the leafless thorn,
That its chirping and its chirming gar thy mother's heart be wae
For the sailor on the sea, and the shepherd on the brae.

The bat has made a cosie bield in yon auld castle wa',
To dream through lang and eerie nights, if dream it can ava;
And the snell and crisping cranreuch gars thy mother's heart be wae
For the sailor on the sea, and the shepherd on the brae.

The bee, the bumming bee, nae mair is heard wi' cheery din,
Like summer breezes murmuring outowre the foaming linn;
The window's spraing'd wi' icy stars, sae weel may we be wae
For the sailor on the sea, and the shepherd on the brae.

The butterflee nae mair is seen amang the woodland bowers;
Auld baudrons, purring pawkily, ayont the ingle cowers,
I like to see ilk creature weel, and, oh! my heart is wae
For the sailor on the sea, and the shepherd on the brae.

We fret at what we ne'er can win, and yaumer at our lot,
And fractious fock would fractious be, tho' half the world they got;
But let us aye contented be, as weel, my bairns, we may,
When we think upon the sailor, and the shepherd on the brae.

=======John Crawford.





JOHN FROST.

AIR - "_The Campbells are coming._"

YOU'VE come early to see us this year, John Frost!
Wi' your crisping and pouthering gear, John Frost,
===For hedge, tower, and tree,
===As far as I see,
Are as white as the bloom o' the pear, John Frost.

You're very preceese wi' your wark, John Frost!
Altho' ye ha'e wrought in the dark, John Frost,
===For ilka fit-stap,
===Frae the door to the slap,
Is braw as a new linen sark, John Frost.

There are some things about ye I like, John Frost,
And ithers that aft gar me fyke, John Frost;
===For the weans, wi' cauld taes,
===Crying "shoon, stockings, claes,"
Keep us busy as bees in the byke, John Frost.

And gae wa' wi' your lang slides, I beg, John Frost!
Bairns' banes are as bruckle's an egg, John Frost;
===For a cloit o' a fa'
===Gars them hirple awa',
Like a hen wi' a happity leg, John Frost.

Ye ha'e fine goings on in the north, John Frost!
Wi' your houses o' ice, and so forth, John Frost!
===Tho' their kirn's on the fire,
===They may kirn till they tire,
Yet their butter-pray what is it worth, John Frost?

Now, your breath would be greatly improven, John Frost,
By a scone pipin'-het frae the oven, John Frost;
===And your blae frosty nose
===Nae beauty wad lose,
Kent ye mair baith o' boiling and stovin', John Frost.

=======William Miller.





THE BLIND BEGGAR-MAN.

AIR - "_Johnnie Macgill._"

THERE'S auld Johnnie Gowdie, the blind beggar-man
Haste, rin! like gude bairns, bring him in by the han';
Tak' care o' the burn, bid him set his staff steeve!
Swith! grip his coat-tails, or tak' haud o' his sleeve.

Poor John! was ance glegger than ony ane here,
But has wander'd in darkness for mony a lang year;
Yet his mind lives in sunshine, although he is blin'-
Though it's darkness without, a' is brightness within.

"Come awa', my auld friend! tak' the pock aff your back,
Draw your breath, tak' your mouthfu', then gi'e us your crack;
I ha'e just been discoursing the bairnies e'en now,
How they ought to befriend helpless bodies like you."

To the feckless and friendless, my bairns, aye be kind,
Be feet to the lame, and be eyes to the blind;
'Twas to share wi' the needfu' our blessings were gi'en,
And the friend o the poor never wanted a frien'!

He who tempers the wind to the lamb that is shorn,
Will bless those who take from life's pathway a thorn,
And the "cup of ooid water" that kindness bestows,
On the heart back in rivers of gladness o'erflows.

Oh, tent you the lear' frae your mother ye learn
For the seed springs in manhood that's sawn in the bairn,
And, mind, it will cheer you through life's little span!
The blessing that fa's frae the blind beggar-man!

=======Robt. L. Malone.





CHUCKIE.

SAW ye chuckie wi' her chickies,
Scraping for them dainty pickies,
Keeking here and keeking there,
Wi' a mother's anxious care,
For a pick to fill their gebbies,
Or a drap to weet their nebbies?
Heard ye weans cry "teuckie, teuckie!
Here's some moolins, bonnie chuckie?"

When her chickens a' are feather'd,
And the school weans round her gather'd,
Gi'en each the prettiest name,
That their guileless tongues can frame;
Chuckie then will bend her neck!
Scrape wi' pride, and boo and beck!
Cluckin' as they'er crying "teuckie!
Here's some moolins, bonnie chuckle!"

Chuckie wi' her wheetle-wheeties
Never grudged a pick o' meat is;
High and low alike will stand
Throwing crumbs wi' kindly hand,
While about she'll jink and jouk,
Pride and pleasure in her look,
As they're crying "teuckie, teuckie
Here's some moolins, bonnie chuckle!"

But sic fortune disna favour
Aye the honest man's endeaveur;
Many a ane, wi' thrawart lot,
Pines and dees, and is forgot;
But, my bairn, if ye've the power,
Aye to lessen want be sure-
Fin' your pouch, cry "teuckie, teuckie,
Here's some moolins, chuckie, chuckie!"

=======William Miller.





THE ORPHAN WANDERER.

"O HELP the poor orphan! who, friendless, alone,
In the darkness of night o'er the plain wanders on,
While the drift rushes fleet, and the tempest howls drear,
And the pelting snow melts as it meets the warm tear."

"Press onward! a light breaks from yon cottage door-
There lives a lone widow, as kind as she's poor,
Go! let your sad plaint meet her merciful ear,
She'll kiss from your cold cheek that heart-bursting tear."

"I'm fatherless! motherless! weary, and worn
Dejected, forsaken, sad, sad, and forlorn!
A voice mid the storm bade me bend my steps here-
O help the poor orphan!  O lend him a tear!"

"That voice was from Heaven - God hath answer'd my prayer!-
My dead boy's blue eyes and his bright sunny hair!
Thou com'st, my sweet orphan, my lone heart to cheer!
Thou hast met with a home and a fond mother here!"

=======James Ballantine.





THE A, B, C.

AIR - "_Clean pease strae._"

IF ye'd be daddie's bonnie bairn, and mammie's only pet,
Your A B brod and lesson time ye maunna ance forget;
Gin ye would be a clever man, and usefu' i' your day,
It's now your time to learn at e'en the A, B, C.

To win our laddie meat and claes has aye been a' our care;
To get you made a scholar neist, we'll toil baith late and ear';
And gin we need, and ha'e our health, we'll join the night to day,
Sae tak' your brod and learn at e'en the A, B, C.

Wha kens but ye may get a school, and syne ye'll win our bread?
Wha kens but in a pu'pit yet, we'll see you wag your head?
Our minister and dominie were laddies i' their day,
And had like you to learn at e'en the A, B, C.

Now come and read your lesson ower, till ance your supper cool-
O what would monie a laddie gi'e to ha'e a father's school?-
To be a mother's only care, as ye are ilka day,
Should mak' ye like to learn at e'en the A, B, C!

=======Alex Laing.





YE MAUN GANG TO THE SCHOOL.

AIR - "_As Jenny sat down wi' her wheel by the fire._"

YE maun gang to the school again' summer, my bairn,
It's no near sae ill as ye're thinking to learn;
For learning's a' worldly riches aboon-
It's easy to carry, and never gaes done.

Ye'll read o' the land, and ye'll read o' the sea!
O' the high and the low, o' the bound and the free!
And maybe a tear will the wee bookie stain,
When ye read o' the widow and fatherless wean!

And when 'tis a story of storms on the sea,
Where sailors ore lost, who have bairnies like thee,
And your heart, growing grit for the fatherless wean,
Gars the tearies hap, hap o'er your cheekies like rain;

I'll then think on the dew that comes frae aboon,
Like draps frae the stars or the silvery moon,
To freshen the flowers : - but the tears frae your ee
For the woes of another, are dearer to me.

So ye'll gae to the school again' summer, my bairn -
Ye're sae gleg o' the uptak' ye soon will learn;-
And I'm sure ere the dark nights o' winter keek ben,
Ye'll can read William Wallace frae en' to en'!

=======William Miller.





A MOTHER'S JOYS.

AIR - "_The boatie rows._"

I've gear enough!  I've gear enough!
=I've bonnie bairnies three;
Their welfare is a mine o' wealth,
=Their love a crown to me.
The joys, the dear delights they bring
=I'm sure I wadna tyne
Though a' the good in Christendie
=Were made the morrow mine!

Let others flaunt in fashion's ring!
=Seek rank and high degree;
I wish them joy, wi' a' my heart-
=They're no envied by me.
I wadna gi'e thae lo'esome looks!
=The heaven o' thae smiles!
To bear the proudest name-to be
=The Queen o' Britain's isles!

My sons are like their father dear,
=And a' the neighbours tell
That my wee blus-ee'd dochter's just
=The picture o' mysel'!
O! blessing's on my darlings a',
='Bout me they're aye sae fain,
My heart rins ower wi' happiness
=To think they're a' my ain!

At e'ening, morning, ilka hour,
=I've ae unchanging player,
That heaven would my bairnies bless,
=My hope, my joy, my care.
I'se gear enough!  I've gear enough!
=I've bonnie bairnies three;
A mine o' wealth their welfare is,
=Their love a crown to me.

=======W. Ferguson.





WEE NANNY.

AIR - "_Ower the muir amang the heather._"

WEE Nanny weel deserves a sang,
=So weel she tends her little brither;
For aye when mother's working thrang,
=Awa' they tot wi' ane anither;
His face she washes, kaims his hair,
=Syne, wi' a piece weel spread wi' butter,
She links him lightly down the stair,
=And lifts him cannie ower the gutter.

Where bees bum ower the flowery green,
=Wi' buttercups and gowans glancing,
There may the happy totts be seen,
=Like lammies in the meadow dancing;
Then wi' their laps weel filled wi' flowers,
=And glowing cheeks as red as roses,
They toddle hame, and play for hours
=At husking necklaces and posies.

You never need tell Nanny twice,
=To do your bidding aye she's ready;
And hearkens sae to gude advice,
=Nae doubt, if spared she'll be a leddy!
When ither bairns fa' out and fight,
=She reds the quarrel aye sae cannie,
Wee Nanny soon mak's a' things right,
=And a' the bairns are friends wi' Nanny.

=======Alex Smart.





MY DRAGON.

AIR - "_Logie o' Buchan._"

THE hip's on the brier, and the haw's on the thorn,
The primrose is wither'd, and yellow the corn;
The shearers will be soon on Capilrig brae,
Sae I'll aff to the hills wi' my dragon the day.

The wind it comes snelly, and scatters the leaves,
John Frost on the windows a fairy web weaves;
The robin is singing, and black is the slae,
Sae I'll aff to the hills wi' my dragon the day!

I've bought me a string that will reach to the moon,
I wish I could rise wi't the white clouds aboon,
And see the wee stars as they glitter and play!-
Let me aff to the hills wi' my dragon the day!

=======George Donald.





UNCLE JAMIE.

AIR - "_Ewie wi' the crookit horn._"

WEEL the bairns may mak' their mane,
Uncle Jamie's dead and gane!
Though his hairs were thin and grey,
Few like him could frisk and play.
Fresh and warm his kindly heart
Wi' the younkers aye took part;
And the merry songs he sung
Charm'd the hearts o' auld and young.

Uncle Jamie had a mill,
And a mousie it intil,
Wi' a little bell to ring,
And a jumping jack to fling;
And a drummer, rud-de-dud,
On a little drum to thud,
And a mounted bold dragoon,
Riding a' the lave aboon.

When the mousie drave the mill,
Wi' the bairns the house would fill,
Such a clatter then began!
Faster aye the mousie ran!
Clinkum, clankum! rad-de-dad!
Flang the jumping jack like mad!
Gallop went the bold dragoon,
As he'd gallop owen the moon!

Some, wha maybe think they're wise,
Uncle's frolics may despise;
Let them look as grave's they may,
He was wiser far than they.
Thousands a' the warld would gi'e
Could they be as blythe as he.
Weel the bairns may mak' their mane,
Uncle Jamie's dead an' gane!

=======Alex Smart.





CUR-ROOK-I-TY-DOO.

AIR - "_Laird o' Cockpen._"

CUR-ROOK-I-TY-DOO! cur-rook-i-ty-do!
Wi' your neck o' the goud and your wings o' the blue;
Pretty poll, like a body, can speak, it is true,
But you're just my ain pet! my cur-rook-i-ty-doo!

My father's awa' wi' his dog and his gun,
The moorfowl to shoot on the hills o' Kilmun,
My brothers to fish in the burns o' the Rue,
But I'm blither at hame wi' cur-rook-i-ty-doo.

I'll feed ye wi' barley!  I'll feed ye wi' pease!
I'll big ye a nest wi' the leaves o' the trees;
I'll mak' ye a dooket, sae white to the view,
If ye'll no flee awa', my cur-rook-i-ty-doo!

There's the hen wi' her teuckies thrang scraping their meat,
Wi' her cluckety-cluck, and their wee wheetle-wheet!
And bauld leerielaw would leave naething to you,
Sae pink frae my hand, my cur-rook-i-ty-doo!

They bought me a pyet-they gi'ed me a craw,
I keepit them weel, yet they baith flew awa';
Was that no unkindly? - the thought gars me grue-
But ye'll no be sae fause, my cur-rook-i-ty-doo!

Ye blink wi' your ee like a star in the sky,-
Here's water to wash ye, or drink if you're dry;
For I see by your breastie your crappie is fu'-
Now, croodle a sang, my cur-rook-i-ty-doo!

When I grow up a man, wi' a house o' my ain,
Ye needna be fear'd that I'll leave ye alane;
But maybe ye'll die, or tak' on wi' the new,
Yet I'll never forget my cur-rook-i-ty-doo!

=======George Donald.





O THIS IS NO MY AIN BAIRN.

AIR - "_This is no my ain house._"

O THIS is no my ain bairn,
=I ken by the greetie o't!
They've changed it for some fairy elf
=Aye kicking wi' the feetie o't!
A randy, roaring, cankert thing,
That nought will do but fret and fling,
And gar the very rigging ring
=Wi' raging at the meatie o't!

This canna be my ain bairn,
=That was so gude and bonnie O!
Wi' dimpled cheek and merry een.
=And pawky tricks sae mony O!
That danced upon her daddy's knee,
Just like a birdie bound to flee,
And aye had kisses sweet to gi'e
=A' round about to ony O!

O yes, it is my ain bairn!
=She's coming to hersel' again!
Now blessings on my ain bairn,
=She's just my bonnie Bell again!
Her merry een, her rosy mou',
Ance mair wi' balmy kisses fu'-
I kent the bonnie bairn would rue,
=And soon would be hersel' again.

=======Alex Smart.





CHEETIE PUSSIE.

AIR - "_Saw ye my Peggy?_"

CHEETIE! cheetie pussie! slipping thro' the housie,
=Watching frighted mousie - making little din;
Or by fireside curring, sang contented purring,
=Come awa' to Mirren, wi' your velvet skin!

Bonny baudrons! grip it! straik it weel and clap it!
=See the milk, it's lappit, ilka drap yestreen!
Hear to hungry cheetie! mewling for her meatie,
=Pussie, what a pity ye should want a friend!

Throw the cat a piecie, like a kindly lassie
=Ne'er be proud and saucy, hard and thrawn like Jean;
Doggie wants a share o't, if ye've ony mair o't,
=Just a wee bit spare o't, and you're mother's queen!

Cheetie! cheetie pussie! watching frighted mousie,-
=Slipping thro' the housie wi' your glancing een
Or by fireside curring, song contented purring,
=Come awa' to Mirren, tell her where you've been!

=======George Donald.





THE DREAMING CHILD.

"BE still still, my dear darling, why start ye in sleep?
Ye dream and ye murmur! ye sob and ye weep;
What dread ye, what fear ye? oh, hush ye your fears-
Still starting, still moaning-still, still shedding tears!

"Be still, my dear darling, oh stay your alarm!
Your brave-hearted father will guard you from harm;
With bare arm he toils by that red furnace glare,
=His child, and his wife, and his home all his care.

"But hark! what a crash-hush, my darling, be still
Those screams mid dark night bode some terrible ill-
Your father is there - death and danger are there!"
She bears forth her child, and she flies fleet as air.

A slow measured tread beats the smoke-blackened way,
On which a pale torch sheds a dim sickly ray;
The dreaming child's father stalks sad and forlorn-
His dead neighbour home to a widow is borne.

The mother her baby clasps close to her breast,
"Thank heaven He is safe-my dear child safely rest,
While I fly to the aid of this daughter of sorrow,
God help me! I may be a widow to-morrow!"

=======James Ballantine.





A MOTHER'S SONG.

AIR - "_O rest thee, my darling._"

O COME now, my darling, and lie on my breast,
For that's the soft pillow my baby loves best;
Peace rests on thine eyelids, as sweetly they close,
And thoughts of to-morrow ne'er break thy repose.

What dreams in thy slumber, dear infant, are thine?
Thy sweet lips are smiling when prest thus to mine?
All lovely and guileless thou sleepest in joy,
And Heaven watches over my beautiful boy.

O would thus that ever my darling might smile,
And still be a baby, my griefs to beguile!
But hope whispers sweetly, ne'er broken shall be
The tie that unites my sweet baby and me.

=======Alex Smart.





YE MAUNNA SCAITH THE FECKLESS.

"COME, callans, quit sic cruel sport; for shame, for shame, gi'e ower!
That poor half-witted creature ye've been fighting wi' this hour;
What pleasure ha'e ye seeing him thus lay his bosom bare?
Ye maunna scaith the feckless! they're God's peouliar care.

"The wild flower seeks the shady dell, and shuns the mountain's brow,
Dark mists may gather ower the hills, while sunshine glints below;
And, oh! the canker-worm oft feeds on cheek o' beauty fair,-
Ye maunna skaith the feckless! they're God's peculiar care.

"The sma'est things in nature are feckless as they're sma,
They tak' up unco little space-there's room enough for a';
And this poor witless wanderer, I'm sure ye'd miss him sair-
Ye maunna scaith the feckless! they're Gods peculiar care.

"There's some o' ye may likely ha'e, at hame, a brother dear,
Whose wee bit helpless, mournfu' greet ye canna thole to hear;
And is there ane amang ye but your best wi' him would share?-
Ye maunna scaith the feckless! they're God's peculiar care."

The callans' een were glist wi' tears, they gazed on ane anither,
They felt what they ne'er felt before, "the feckless was their brither!"
They set him on a sunny seat, and strok'd his gowden hair-
The bairnies felt the feckless was God's peculiar care.

=======James Ballantine.





THE SCARLET ROSE-BUSH.

AIR - "_There grows a bonnie brier bush._"

COME see my scarlet rose-bush
=My father gied to me,
That's growing in our window-sill
=Sae fresh an' bonnilie;
I wadna gi'e my rose-bush
=For a' the flowers I see,
Nor for a pouchfu' o' red goud,
=Sae dear it is to me.

I set it in the best o' mould
=Ta'en frae the moudie's hill,
And cover'd a' the yird wi' moss
=I gather'd on the hill;
I saw the blue bell blooming,
=And the gowan wat wi' dew,
But my heart was on my rose-bush set,
=I left them where they grew.

I water't ilka morning,
=Wi' meikle pride and care,
And no a wither'd leal I leave
=Upon its branches fair;
Twa sprouts are rising frae the root,
=And four are on the stem,
Three rosebuds and six roses blawn;
='Tis just a perfect gem!

Come, see my bonnie blooming bush
=My father gied to me,
Wi' roses to the very top,
=And branches like a tree,
It grows upon our window-sill,
=I watch it tentilie;
O! I wadna gi'e my dear rose-bush
=For a' the flowers I see.

=======George Donald.





THE WAY-SIDE FLOWER.

THERE'S a moral, my child,
=In the way-side flower;
There's an emblem of life
=In its short-liv'd hour;
It smiles in the sunshine,
=And weeps in the shower;
And the footstep falls
=On the way-side flower!

Now see, my dear child,
=In the way-side flower,
The joys and the sorrows
=Of life's passing hour;
The footstep of time
=Hastens on in its power;
And soon we must fall
=Like the way-side flower!

Yet know, my dear child,
=That the way-side flower
Will revive in its season,
=And bloom its brief hour;
That again we shall blossom,
=In beauty and power,
Where the foot never falls
=On the way-side flower!

=======Alex Laing





THE WILD BEE.

CANNIE wee body wha rises sae early,
And fa's to thy work in the morning sae merrily,
Brushing thy boots on the fog at thy door,
And washing thy face in the cup o' a flower;
Welcoming blithely the sun in the east,
Then skimming awa' to the green mountain's breast;
Or crooning sae cantie thy sweet summer sang,
While roaming the meadows the sunny day lang.

Thou mightest teach wit to the wisest o' men,
Nature has gi'en thee sic gifts o' her ain;
Thou needest nae Almanac, bonnie wild bee,
For few hae sic skill o' the weather as thee.
Aye carefu' and cunning, right weel thou canst tell
If the sun's gaun to blink on the red heather bell,
And thou canst look out frae thy ain cozie door,
And laugh at the butterfly drown'd in the shower.

Hast thou any bairnies wha claim a' thy care,
That thou must e'en toil tho' thy banes may be sair?
Do they hing round thy wee legs sae weary and lame,
A' seeking for guid things when father comes hame?
Nae doubt thou'lt be happy to see them sae fain,
For a kind father aye maun be proud o' his ain;
And their mother will tell how they've wearied a' day,
And a' that has happened since thou gaed'st away.

When night darkens down o'er the hill and the glen,
How snugly thou sleep'st in thy warm foggy den;
Nae master to please, and nae lesson to learn,
And no driv'n about like a poor body's bairn.
O! happy would I be could I but like thee
Keep dancing a' day on the flowers o' the lea;
Sae lightsome and lively o' heart and o' wing,
And naething to do but sip honey and sing.

=======William Gardiner





JOHNNY ON HIS SHELTY.

AIR - "_The ewie wi' the crooked horn._"

SAW ye Johnny on his shelty,
Riding, brattling, helty skelty,
In his tartan trews and kilty-
=Was there ever sic a wean?
Only eight years auld come Lammas,
Yet he's bigger than our Tammas,
If he's spared he winna shame us,
=Else I'm unco sair mista'en.

Brattling thro' the blooming heather,
By the side o' tenty father,
Ne'er a bridle nor a tether-
=Hauding steevely by the main:
Did ye only see our Johnny
Sitting on his Hieland pony!
Him! he wadna beck to ony,-
=E'en the Duke is no sae vain.

Sic a beast frae Moss o' Balloch
Ne'er wise seen in a' Glen-Falloen,
No like Duncan's shilly shalloch!
=Naething left but skin and bane.
Scarce the size o' faithfu' Keeper-
Ower the dykes as gude a leaper-
Toozie ekin, and tail a sweeper;
=Sic a pair I'm sure there's nane!

=======George Donald.





MY DOGGIE.

AIR - "_A' body's like to get married but me._"

Ye may crack o' your rabbits and sing o' your doos,
O' gooldies and linties gae brag, if ye choose,
O' your bonnie pet lambs, if ye like, ye may blaw,
But my wee toozie doggie's worth mair than them a'.

Twa hard-hearted laddies last Martinmas cam'
To drown the poor thing in the auld miller's dam,
I gied them a penny, and ran wi't awa',
For I thought it was sinfu' sic harshness to shaw.

When I gang to the school, or am sent on an errand,
It's aff like a hare, it has grown sae auld-farrand-
Then waits till I come, sae I'm laithfu' to thraw
My wee toozie doggie, or send it awa'.

Fu' brawly it kens ilka word that I speak,
And winna forget what I say for a week;
My bonnet it carries, or gi'es me a paw-
Sic a doggie as Rover I never yet saw!

Sae wise and sae galley, the sight o't 's a feast!
For it's liker a body in sense, than a beast;
Wi' a breast like the drift, and a back like the craw
A doggie like Rover there'a nane ever saw!

=======George Donald.





THE SPRING TIME O' LIFE.

AIR - "_O wat ye wha I met yestreen?_"

THE summer comes wi' rosy wreaths,
=And spreads the mead wi' fragrant flowers,
While furthy autumn plenty breathes,
=And blessings in abundance showers.
E'en winter, wi' its frost and snaw,
=Brings meikle still the heart to cheer,
But there's a season worth them a',
=And that's the spring-time o' the year.

In spring the farmer ploughs the field
=That yet will wave wi' yellow corn,
In spring the birdie bigs its bield
=In foggy bank or budding thorn;
The burn and brae, the hill and dell,
=A song o' hope are heard to sing,
And summer, autumn, winter, tell,
=Wi' joy or grief, the work o' spring.

Now, youth's the spring-time o' your life,
=When seed is sown wi' care and toil,
And hopes are high, and fears are rife,
=Lest weeds should rise the braird to spoil.
I've sown the seed, my bairnies dear,
=By precept and example baith,
And may the HAND that guides us here
=Preserse it frae the spoiler's skaith!

But soon the time may come when you
=Shall miss a mother's tender care,
A sinfu' world to wander through,
=Wi' a' its stormy strife to share;
Then mind my words whare'er ye gang,
=Let fortune smile or thrawart be,
Ne'er let the tempter lead ye wrang-
=If sae ye live, ye'll happy dee.

=======George Donald.





A MOTHER'S WELCOME.

AIR - "_Maid of Isla._"

WELCOME, welcome, little stranger!
=Stranger never more to be,
To our world of sin and danger-
='Tis thy mother welcomes thee.
Oh, wi' bliss my breast is swelling!
=Tears of joy are on my cheek,
In their own heart-language telling
=What my tongue can never speak.

All my fondest hopes are crowned:
=Thus I clasp them all in thee!
And a world of fears are drowned
=In this moment's ecstasy.
Oh, that voice! did sound fall ever
=Half so sweet on woman's ear?
Music charms-but music never
=Thrlll'd me like the notes I hear.

Not so welcome is the summer
=To the winter-housed bee,
As thy presence, sweet new-comer,
=Is this blessed hour to me.
Not so welcome is the morning
=To the ship-wrecked mariner,
Though his native hills adorning,
Peril past, and succour near.

Welcome, welcome, bonnie wee-thing,
=After all my fond alarm;
Oh, the bless! to feel thee breathing
=In my bosom, free from harm.
Not for all the world's treasure,
=Doubled, would I thee resign-
Give one half the nameless pleasure,
=Thus to know thee, feel thee mine!

=======W Ferguson.





A MOTHER'S FAREWELL.

AIR - "_Galedonia._"

I'M wearing aff this weary warl
=Of trouble, toil, and tears,
But thro' the dusk of death the dawn
=Of happiness appears;
And, oh! wi' a' I lo'ed sae weel
=It's sair for me to part,
The bairnie at my breast who clung,
=The treasure o' my heart;

Who fondly toddled round my knee,
=When cauld misfortune's blast
In eerie sough gaed thro' my breast,
=And laid my bosom waste.
I'm wae to leave the friends I lo'e,
=In tearfu' grief forfairn,-
Oh who can tell a mother's thoughts
=When parting wi' her bairn!

The tender twig, by nursing care,
=Will grow a stately tree,
But who will turn the withering blast
=O' warldly scorn frae thee?
The stranger's hand may crush my flower,
=May scaith its earthly peace;
But we shall meet to love for aye,
=Where toil and troubles cease.

Ae kiss, a last fond kiss, my bairn,
=And then, oh then we part!
Ae kiss, my ain, my only bairn!
=Ere breaks my widowed heart.
I'm laith to leave ilk lovesome thing
=Thro' life I've ca'd mine ain;
Oh who can read a mother's heart
=When parting wi' her wean!

=======John Crawford.





MY LAVEROCK.

AIR - "_Scotland's Hills for me._"

COME sing a sang, my bonnie bird,
=Come sing a canty sang!
It cheers my heart to bear thy notes,
=Ere to the school I gang;
Where gowans white and butter cups
=Besprinkle a' the lea,
Frae there I've cut a dewy turf,
=To make a bed for thee.

'Tis true I like my lintie weel,
=Wi' wing o' green and grey,
And weel I like my sparrow pet,
=That "filip" seems to say;
But better far I lo'e my lark
=Wi' glad an' glancing ee,
Whose early morning melody
=Frae slumber wakens me.

I found thee when a nestling young,
=And tended thee wi' care;
And weel thou hast repaid my toil
=Wi' music rich and rare;
I see thee cock thy tappit pow!
=Thy fluttering wings I see;
And now thou hast begun to sing
=A warbling sang to me!

But yet I better like to hear
=Thy kindred birdies sing,
At morn or noon in cloudless lift,
=Their sang on soaring wing.
Yet thou'rt contented wi' thy lot,
=And kensna to be free,
Though whiles I wish I hadna ta'en
=Thy liberty frae thee.

Sing on, my lav'rock, sing awa'!
=Thy loud and lively lays
Remind me o' the verdant fields,
=And flowery sunny braes,
When spring and summer threw their charms
=On bank and bower and tree,
Then sing awa', my bonny bird!
=A canty sang to me!

=======George Donald.





MY BAIRNIES, YOU'RE A' THE WIDE WORLD TO ME!

THE flower's on the thorn, and the saft tassell'd bloom
Is hanging like gowd on the bonnie green broom,
While fluttering awa' o'er the heath and the lea,
And kissing their sweets, is the young butterflee!

The lark's in the lift, and the lintie its sang
Is lilting sae lightsome the wild woods amang;
While, dancing wi' gladness frae blossom to flower,
Is seen the blythe bumbee hy bank, brae, and bower.

Then gi'e me my rod! and my line, and my creel!
And gi'e me my hooks father buskit sae weel;
For skailed is the school, sae I'll aff to the burn,
And winna be lang till wi' trouts I return!

Your brither's awa' wi' his rod and his creel-
Your brither's awa' wi' his line and his reel-
And a red spreckled trout to his sister he'll bring,
Wi' a bab o' white gowans to mind ye o' spring.

And ye shall be bonnie, and ye shall be braw!
For you're just my ain bairn when your brither's awa';
You're just my ain pet wi' your bright glancin' ee,
My bairnies, you're a' the wide warld to me!

=======George Donald.





MY DADDIE'S AWA' AT THE WAR.

OH, cauld comes the blast ower the deep ravin' woods,
=An' eerie the howlet's wild cry,
An' fast flees the moon 'mang the dark driving clouds
=As they rage o'er the wild wintry sky;
Yet the birds safely sleep in the laigh bending trees,
=An' the beasts hae their dens in the scaur;
But mither and me hae nae place to stay,
=For my daddie's awa' at the war.

That nicht, ere we left our wee house in the glen,
=As I lay in her bosom sae true,
I heard the deep sabs o' her puir breakin' heart,
=While her tears fell in show'rs on my broo.
I grat sair mysel', for she spoke in her dreams
=O' a cap wi' a croun an' a star,
An' her breath cam' sae short, that I thocht she wad dee,
=An' my daddie awa' at the war.

Oh, greet nae mair, mither, for sune he'll come hame,
=An' he'll tak' us again on his knee,
An' close to his heart he will haud us at e'en,
=As he tells o' his toils o'er the sea.
An' yon gentle fo'k that we ca'd on yestreen,
=Spoke sae saft when they drew the door bar,
Oh, I'm sure they'll be kind to wee wand'rers like me,
=Wha hae daddies awa' at the war.

=======ROBERT BURNS THOMSON.





OOR WEE, WEE WEAN.

SITTIN' on her mammy's knee,
=Pu'in' mammy's curls,
Lauchin', kickin' fu' o' glee,
=Hoo the darlin' skirls!
Croodlin' doon in mammy's breast-
=Teetin' oot again-
Fu' o' cantrips, love possessed,
=Is oor wee, wee wean!
===As e'e keekin', sleely teetin'-
====Twinklin', sparklin', unco fain,
===Snigglin', wrigglin', loupin', coupin',
====Is oor wee wean.

Bendin' noo to grip her feet,
=Gooin' wi' delight,
Tryin' wi' her mouthie sweet
=Stumpy taes to bite-
Wond'rin' hoo they move themsel',
=Thinks they're no her ain,
Lookin' what her tongue wad tell,
=Is oor wee, wee wean.
==Ae e'e keekin', sleely teetin', &c.

Standin' noo on mainmy's lap,
=Glowrin' a' aroon'-
Ettlin' noo to tak' a stap,
=Jumpin' up an' doon-
Eenie black, an' dainty nose,
=Cheeks o' ruddy stain,
Lippies like a buddin' rose,
=Is oor wee, wee wean.
==Ae e'e keekin', sleely teetin', &c.

=======WILLIAM ALLAN.





CUDDLE DOON.

THE bairnies cuddle doon at nicht,
=Wi' muckle faucht an' din;
O, try an' sleep, ye waukrife rogues,
=Your faithsr'e comin' in.
They never heed a word I speak;
=I try to gie a froon,
But aye I hap them up, an' cry,
="O, bairnies, cuddle doon."

Wee Jamie wi' the curly held,
=He aye sleeps next the wa',
Bangs up an' cries, "I want a piece"-
=The rascal starts them a'.
I rin an' fetch them pieces, drinks,
=They stop awee the soun',
Then draw the blankets up an' cry,
="Noo, weanies, cuddle doon."

But ere five minutes gang, wee Rab
=Cries oot, frae 'neath the claes,
"Mither, mak' Tam gie ower at ance,
=He's kittlin' wi' his taes."
The mischief's in that Tam for tricks,
=He'd bother half the toon;
But aye I hap them up and cry,
="O, bairnies, cuddle doon."

At length they hear their faither's fit,
=And, as he steeks the door,
They turn their faces to the wa',
=While Tam pretends to snore.
"Hae a' the weans been gude?" he asks,
=As he pits aff his shoon.
"The bairnies, John, are in their beds,
=An' lang since cuddled doon."

An' juist afore we bed oorsel's,
=We look at oor wee lambs;
Tam has his airm roun' wee Rab's neck,
=An' Rab his airm roun' Tam's.
I lift wee Jamie up the bed,
=An' as I straik each croon,
I whisper, till my heart fills up,
="O, bairnies, cuddle doon."

The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht
=Wi' mirth that's dear to me;
But sune the big warl's cark an' care
=Will quaten doon their glee.
Yet, come what may to ilka ane,
=May He who rules aboon
Aye whisper, though their pows be bauld,
="O, bairnies, cuddle doon."

=======ALEXANDER ANDERSON ("Surfaceman").





WEE PEGGIE.

WEE PEGGIE is a darling,
She's everybody's pet,
And fules she makes o' ane an' a',
To think the warld never saw
A bairn sae sweet and winsome-
She's just a fairy queen!
And gaily hauds a court o' luve
Wherever she is seen.

Wee Peggie came to cheer us
When days were dark and cauld,
Before the silver snowdrop came,
Or golden crocus raised its flame.
Wee Peggie came to cheer us,
Her sunny infant smile
Made glints o' heaven come through the gloom,
Our sorrows to beguile.

Her e'en outshine the violet
Wet wi' the morning dew;
In her bright face the Graces meet,
Nae rosebud ere was half sae sweet
Wee Peggie's kiss o' fondness
Delights baith auld and young,
And charming are the cooing notes
That warble from her tongue.

A cheruh is wee Peggie,
A messenger of joy,
Her innocence and gladsome glee
Gar clouds o' care and sadness flee.
To see her joyous as the birds,
And bonnie as the flowers,
Sheds happiness on a' around,
Like balmy summer showers!

=======William Cross.





WEE JOUKYDAIDLES.

WEE JOUKYDAIDLES,
=Toddlin' out an' in:
Oh but she's a cuttie,
=Makin' sic a din!
Aye sae fou' o' mischief,
=An' minds na what I say:
My verra heart gangs loup, loup,
=Fifty times a-day!

Wee Joukydaidles-
=Where's the stumpie noo?
She's peepin' thro' the cruivie,
=An' lauchin' to the soo!
Noo she sees my angry e'e,
=An' aff she's like a hare!
Lassie, when I get ye,
=I'll scud you till I'm sair!

Wee Joukydaidles-
=Noo she's breakin' dishes-
Noo she's soakit i' the burn,
=Catchin' little fishes-
Noo she's i' the barn-yard,
=Playin' wi' the fouls;
Feedin' them wi' butter-bakes,
=Snaps, an' sugar-bools.

Wee Joukydaidles-
=Oh my heart it's broke!
She's torn my braw new wincey
=To mak' a dolly's frock-
There's the goblet owre the fire!
=The jaud! she weel may rin!
No a tattie ready yet,
=An' faither comin' in!

Wee Joukydaidles-
=Where's the smoukie noo?
She's hidin' i' the coal-hole
=Cryin' "Keekybo!"-
Noo she's at the fireside,
=Pu'in' pussy's tail-
Noo she's at the broun bowl,
=Suppin' a' the kail!

Wee Joukydaidles-
=Paidlin' i' the shower-
There she's at the windy!
=Haud her, or she's owre!
Noo she's slippit frae my sicht:
=Where's the wean at last?
In the byre amang the kye,
=Sleepin' soun' an' fast!

Wee Joukydaidles-
=For a' ye gi' me pain,
Ye're aye my darlin' tottie yet-
=My ain wee wean!
An' gin I'm spared to ither days-
=Oh, may they come to pass!-
I'll see my bonnie bairnie
=A braw, braw lass!

=======JAMES SMITH.





WEE DAVIE DAYLICHT

WEE Davie Daylicht
=Keeks o'er the sea
Early in the morning
=Wi' a clear e'e;
Waukens a' the birdies
=That were sleepin' soun'-
Wee Davie Daylicht
=Is nas lazy loon.

Wee Davie Daylicht
=Glowers o'er the hill,
Glints through the greenwood,
=Dances on the rill;
Smiles on the wee cot,
=Shines on the ha'-
Wee Davie Daylicht
=Cheers the hearts o' a'.

Come, bonnie bairnie,
=Come awa' to me;
Cuddle in my bosie,
=Sleep upon my knee;-
Wee Davie Daylicht
=Noo has closed his e'e,
In among the rosy clouds
=Far ayont the sea.

=======ROBERT TENNANT.





THE WEE, WEE MAN.

A WEE, wee man, wi' an unco din,
=Cam' to our bield yestreen,
And siccan a rippet the body rais'd
=As seldom was heard or seen;-
He wanted claes, he wanted shoon,
=And something to weet his mou',
And aye he spurr'd wi' his tiny feet,
=And blink'd wi' his e'en o' blue.

His face, which nane had seen before,
=Thrill'd strangely thro' ilk min',
Wi' gowden dreams frae mem'ry's store,
=Of loved anes lost langsyne,
A faither's brow, a mither's e'en,
=A brither's dimpled chin,
Were mingled a' on that sweet face,
=Fresh sent frae a hand abune.

Oh! soon ilka heart grew great wi' love,
=And draps o' joy were seen
To trinkle fast o'er channell'd cheeks,
=Where streams o' wae had been.
A welcome blithe we gied the chiel'
=To share our lowly ha';
And we rowed him warm in fleecy duds,
=And linen like Januar' snaw.

Our guidman has a way o' his ain,
=The word maun aye be law-
Frae Candlemas to blythe Yule e'en
=He rules baith great and sma';
But the howdie reign'd yestreen, I trow,
=And swagger'd baith butt and ben-
Even the big arm-chair was push'd agee
=Frae the cosie chimley en'.

The guidman snoov'd aboot the hoose,
=Aye rinnin' in some ane's way,
And aft he glanc'd at the wee thing's face,
=On the auld wife's lap that lay;
His breast grew great wi' love and pride,
=While the bairn was hush'd asleep,
And a gush o' blessings frae his heart
=Cam' welling, warm and deep.

"I canna boast o' gowd," quoth he,
="My wealth's a willing arm;
Yet health and strength and wark be mine,
=And wha shall bode thee harm?
To fill thy wee bit caup and cog,
=And gi'e thee claes and lair,
Wi' joy and sweet content I'll strive,
=Through poortith, toil, and care."

There's joy within the summer woods
=When wee birds chip the shell,
When firstling roses tint wi' bloom
=The lip of sunlit dell;
But sweeter than the nestling bird,
=Or rose-bud on the lea,
Is yon wee smiling gift of love
=To a fond parent's e'e.

=======HUGH MACDONALD.





DADDY, LOOK AT TOTTIE.

DADDIE, look at Tottie,
=Marchin' up an' doon;
Smilin' like the summer,
=In his wee nicht-goon.
See the licht o' gladness
=Dancin' in his e'en;
Oh, the winsome laddie,
=Sweetest ever seen.

See him spin his peerie,
=On the clean hearthstane;
Hear him blaw his trumpet,
=Oh, the clever wean.
See, alang the carpet,
=Hoo he rows his ba';
Noo he's on the dresser,
=Haud him or he'll fa'.

Wearied noo, my treasure,
=Toddle ower to me;
Come an' mak' a pownie
=O' yer daddie's knee.
Cuddle me, my hinney,
=In my bosie creep;
Sing a sang to faither,
='Fore ye fa' asleep.

Wheest, ye mauna greet, son,
=Cockyleerielaw;
Wheest, the muckle black man,
=Steals bad weans awa'.
Oh, there's no a wee lamb
=Half sae guid an' kin';
Oh, there's no a bairnie
=Like this bairn o' mine.

=======JAMES ALEXANDER.





BONNIE BAIRNIE.

=BONNIE bairnie, how I love it,
=None can rob its daddy of it;
=Many a one my bairn might covet,
==Bonnie, bonnie bairnie.

Wi' its wee bit nosey-posey,
Cheeky-peekies red and rosy,
And its bosey, cosey-osey,
=Bonnie, bonnie bairnie.
Wi' its bonnie brow brow brenty,
And its moothie-pouthy dainty,
Made for kissie-wisses plenty,
=Bonnie, bonnie bairnie,
==_Chorus_-Bonnie bairnie, how I love it, &c.

Wi' its e'enie-peenies glancin',
And its leggie-peggies dancin',
Like a horsie-porsey prancin',
=Bonnie, bonnie bairnie.
Kittlie-wittly my bit pussie,
Creepy-crappy up the housie,
Cuddlie-wuddly my ain mousie,
=Bonnie, bonnie bairnie.
==_Chorus_-Bonnie bairnie, how I love it, &c.

Ridie-pidey, pownie-ownie,
Fallie-pally down, down, downy,
Mendie-pendy, crackle-crownie,
=Bonnie, bonnie bairnie.
Toesie-poesy, feetie-peety,
Handie-pandy, goodie-sweety,
Nicie-picey, eatie-peaty,
=Bonnie, bonnie bairnie.
==_Chorus_-Bonnie bairnie, how I love it, &c.

Cockie-locky, henie-peney,
Ducky-pucky, kitty-wrenie,
"Cow-wow-wow-ie,"-nowie thenie,
=Bonnie, bonnie bairnie.
Bedie, pedy, some creep in,
Hushy bushy, bairnie sleepin',
Guardian angels watches keepin',
=Ower my bonnie bairnie.
==_Chorus_-Bonnie bairnie, how I love it, &c.


From "Mistura Curiosa," by the late Dr Sidey, by permission of his executors.





OH, WHO IS THIS BAIRNIE?

OH, who is this bairnie that sits on my knee?
Oh, I wonder whose bairnie this bairnie can be;
==This bonnie wee mousie,
==This wee cheetie pussie;-
Oh, it's my ain wee bairnie that's kissing at me.

Oh, who is this bairnie that sits on my knee?
Oh, I wonder whose bairnie this bairnie can be;
==Wi' cheeks like the cherry,
==An' lips like the berry;-
Oh, it's my ain wee bairnie that's kissing at me.

Oh, who is this bairnie that sits on my knee?
Oh, I wonder whose bairnie this bairnie can be,
==Wi' bonnie wee bosey,
==Sae warm an' sae cosey;-
Oh, it's my ain wee bairnie that's kissing at me.

Oh, who is this bairnie that sits on my knee?
Oh, I wonder whose bairnie this bairnie can be;
==Wi' bonnie brow brenty,
==An' wee mouthy dainty;-
Oh, it's my ain wee bairnie that's kissing at me.

Oh, who is this bairnie that sits on my knee?
Oh, I wonder whose bairnie this bairnie can be;
==This bonnie wee lambie,
==Sae fond o' its mammie;-
Oh, it's just my ain bairnie that's fond, fond o' me.


From "Alter Ejusdem," by the late Dr Sidey, by permission of his executors.





A BAIRNIE'S SONG.

AIR - "_A Highland lad my love was born._"

OH, I'll sing a songie-pongie to my bairnie to-day,
Before its daddie-paddie goesie-oesie away;
So it must be goodie-poodie and at homeie-omeie stay;
A roudle dum, a doudle dum, a roudle dum a day.

====_Chorus_-

=A roudle dum, a doudls dum, a roudle dum a dee,
=Did you ever such a bonnie wee bit bairnie see?
=A roudle dum, a doudle dum, a roudle dum a day,
=A rideie-pideie, horseie-porseie gallopie away.

Such a bonnie-onnie bairnie-pairnie noneie-oneie see,
A rideie-pideie horseie-porseie daddy-addy's knee;
With merry-perry, laughie-paughie, hnppy-appy glee;
A roudle durn, a doudle dum, a roudle dum a dee.
=_Chorus_-A roudle dum, a doudle dum, &c.

Its littie-ittie legie-pegies kickie ickie high,
Its bonnie-onnie eenie-peenies lookie-ookie sly;
Its pittie-ittie mouthie-pouthie nevie-evie cry;
A roudle dum, a doudle dum, a doudle dum a di.
=_Chorus_-A roudle dum, a doudle dum, &c.

Now thisie-isie stepie-pepie horseie-porseie go,
A trotie-otie fastie-pastie, a walkie-palkie slow,
A stopie-opie soonie-poonie hearie-earie "Wo;"
A roudle dum, a doudle dum, a roudle dum a do.
=_Chorus_-A roudle dum, a doudle dum, &c.

Now a niceie-piceie hattie-attie getie-etie you,
A littie-ittie coatie-poatie pittie-ittie blue,
And niceie-piceie shoesie-poesie goodie-oodie new;
A roudle dum, a doudle dum, a roudle dum a di.
=_Chorus_-A roudle dum, a doudle dum, &c.


From "Alter Ejusdem," by the late Dr Sidey, by permission of his executors.





WEE CHARLIE.

O GIN my heart could ha'e its wiss
=Within this weary warld o' care,
I'd ask nae glow o' balmy bliss
=To dwell around me evermair,
For joy were mine beyond compare,
=An' O how happy would I be,
If heaven would grant my earnest prayer,
=An' bring wee Charlie back to me.

He cam' like sunshine when the buds
=Burst into blossoms sweet and gay,
He dwelt like sunshine when the cluds
=Are vanish'd frae the eye o' day.
He pass'd as daylight fades away,
=An' darkness spreads owre land an' sea:
Nae wonder though in grief I pray,
=O bring wee Charlie back to me.

When Pleasure brings her hollow joys,
=Or Mirth awakes at Friendship's ca',
Or Art her varied powers employs
=To mak' dull time look blithe an' braw,
How feckless seem they ane an' a'
=When sad Remembrance dims my e'e,-
O tak' thae idle joys awa'
=An' bring wee Charlie back to me.

But vain's the cry; he maunna cross
=Frae where he dwells in bliss unseen,
Nor need I mourn my waefu' loss,
=Nor muse on joys that might ha'e been.
When cauld death comes to close my e'en,
=Awa' beyond life's troublous sea,
In everlasting joy serene,
=They'll bring wee Charlie back to me.

=======JAMES KENNEDY, New York.





JENNY WI' THE LANG POCK.

===JENNY wi' the lang pock,
====Haste ye owre the main,
===Lampin wi' yer lang legs,
====Plashin' through the rain;
===Here's a waukrife laddie
====Winna steel his e'e,
===Pit him in yer lang pock,
====An' dook him in the sea.
Oh, dear me! whan'ill Jenny come?
Wheesht! I think I hear her cryin' doun the lum;
Fie, awa', Jenny! we didna want ye here-
A' the bairns are in their beds - a' but Jamie dear.

===Gudesake! noo I hear her!
====There she's on the stair,
===Sapples o' the sea-bree
====Stickin' in her hair,
===Hushions on her bare legs,
====Bauchels on her feet,
===Seekin' waukrife bairnies
====Up an' doun the street!
Oh, losh me! there she's at the sneck,
Stoitin' owre the stair-heid - may she break her neck!
Cuddle doun fu' cosy - that's my ain wee lamb;
Dinna spurtle wi' yer feet, or ye'll wauken Tam.

===Jenny's nae awa' yet,
====Sae ye mauna greet;
===There she's on the door-mat
====Scufflin' wi' her feet,
===Wabblin' wi' her lang legs,
====Sneevlin' through her nose,
===Hirslin' wi' her lang pock,
====Aff Jenny goes!
Oh losh me! there she's back again,
List'nin' wi' her lang lugs for a greeting wean;
Fie! gae bar the door, Jean, thraw aboot the key-
Na, she winna get ye, ye're owre dear to me!

===Whaur's the body gaun noo?
====Up the ither stair,
===At oor neebor's door she's
====Tirlin' I declare!
===Cryin' through the keyhole
====Like a roopit sheep,
==="Hae ye ony weans here
====Winna fa' asleep?"
Oh, losh me! hae they let her in?
Wha's that sprechin', makin' sic a din?
No oor Jamie, for he is sleepin' soun',
Like a bonnie rose-bud in the month o' June.

===Jenny wi' the lang pock,
====Ye may tak' the road,
===A' the bairns are safe noo
====In the lan' o' nod;
===Losh! can that be John's fit
====Comin' up the stair?
===No ae bit o' supper yet
====Ready I declare!
Oh, dear me! rest for me there's nane,
Pity on the mither that's plagued wi' sic a wean!
Yet at him the very cat daurna wink an e'e,
For he's the darlin' o' my heart, an' a' the warl' to me!

=======JAMES NICHOLSON.





AN AULD RHYME.

"FEETIKINS, feetikins, when will they gang?"
Hear ye the burden o' grannie's auld sang,
Crooned to the bairnie that lambs on her knee;
Feetikins, feetikins, bide ye a wee!

Bonnie wee feetikins, dinna be rash!
Toddlin' means trouble, an' trial, an' fash;
Feetikins, feetikins, dancin' in glee,
Bide while ye may upon auld grannie's knee!

"Feetikins, feetikins, when will they gang"
Doun by the burnie the gowans amang?
Feetikins, feetikins, eager an' licht,
Dinna gang far oot o' auld grannies sicht!

"Feetikins, feetikins, when will they gang?"
The day has just dawned, but the journey is lang;
Grannie wad fain hae ye startit in time,
Sae rins the mural o' grannie's auld rhyme.

Feetikins, feetikins, sturdy an' wee,
Far frae auld grannie belyve ye may be;
Far frae yer hame by the bonnie burnside;
Min' ye gang steady whate'er may betide.

Feetikins, feetikins, gaugna agley:
Better lie still upon auld grannie's knee;
Cauld, cauld wee feetikins, never to gang,
Than bear grannie's bairn into roads that are wrang.

Feetikins, feetikins, weary and sair,
Back to yer hame ye may wander ance mair,
Bringin' a burden o' sorrow an' pain,
But never the licht heart o' grannies wee wean.

Weel, weel, wee feetikins, gang when ye may,
God speed yer journey till close o' the day;
An' syne may ye rest 'neath the gowany swaird,
By auld grannies side in the bonnie kirkyaird.

=======ELLEN CORBET NICHOLSON.





OOK WEE KATE.

AIR - "_There grows a bonnie brier bush._"

Was there ever sic a lsssie kent, as our wee Kate?
There's no a wean in a' the toun like oor wee Kate;
Baith in and out, at kirk an' schule, she rins at sic a rate,
A pair o' shoon jist lasts a month wi' oor wee Kate.

I wish she'd been a callan', she's sic a steering queen-
For ribbons, dolls, and a' sic gear, she doesna' care a preen,
But taps and bools, girs, ba's an' bats, she plays wi' ear' and late;
I'll ha'e to get a pair o' breeks for oor wee Kate.

Na, what do you think? the ither day, as sure as ony thing-
I saw her fleein' dragons, wi' maist a mile o' string;
Yer jumpin' rapes and peveralls she flings oot o' her gate,
But nane can fire a towgun like oor wee Kate.

They tell me on the meetin' nicht she's waur than ony fule,
She dings her bloomer out o' shape an' maks't jist like a shule;
The chairman glooms an' shakes his heid, an' scarce can keep his seat;
I won'er he can thole sic deils, as our wee Kate.

But see her on a gala-nicht, she's aye sae neat an' clean,
Wi' cheeks like ony roses, an' bonnie glancin' e'en-
An' then to hear her sing a sang, it's jist a perfect treat,
For ne'er a lintie sings sae sweet as our wee Kate.

Yet there's no a kin'er wean in a' the toun, I'm sure;
That day wee brither Johnny dee'd, she grat her wee heart sair;
In beggar-weans an' helpless folk she tak's a queer conceit- 
They're sure to get the bits o' piece frae our wee Kate.

Gaun to the kirk the ither day she sees a duddie wean,
Wi' cauld bare feat and brackit face, sit sabbin' on a stane;
She slipt the penny in his haun' I gie'd her for the plate;
The kirks wad fa' if folk were a' like our wee Kate.

For a' she's sic a steer-about, sae fu' o' mirth an' fun,
She tak's the lead in ilka class, an' mony a prize she's won-
This gars me think there's maybe mair than mischief in her pate,
I wish I saw the wisdom teeth o' oor wee Kate.

=======James Nicholson.





THE WAUKRIFE E'E.

YE soncy-faced wee prattlin' thing,
=How can ye grieve my heart sae sair?
Nae jot o' wark can I get dune
=Ye're i' my arms baith late an' ear'.
Ye surely dinna ken the dool
=Ye gar yer trachled mammy dree,
Whan thus, throughout the lee-lang day
=Ye winna close yer waukrife e'e.

The washin'-tub sits i' the floor-
=I brocht it oot as morning dawned;
There's scarce a clean dud i' the house,
=An' yet I daurna weet my hand.
There's hose to darn, an' claes to mend;
=Yer daddie'e breeks I'm wae to see;
Yet hoo can I to aught attend,
=Whan ye hae sic a waukrife e'e?

The pat's but newlins on the fire;
=Yer daddie he'll be hame e'en noo,
Benumbed wi' cauld, bedaubed wi' mire,
=An' nething het to fill his mou!
My clockie fails to tell the hour-
=Wee Robbie shoved the han's agee;
To keep things richt's beyond my power
=Unless ye close your waukrife e'e.

Frae out the crue the grumphie granes-
=Alack, puir beast, fu' weel she may;
Some half-boiled tatties, hard as stanes,
=Are a' that's crossed her craig the day.
Had I my will she'd get her sairin',
=Nor man nor beast sud scrimpit be;
But naught gaes richt whan ye, my bairn,
=Sae seldom close yer waukrife e'e.

Yet, bairnie, frae a power Divine
=Thine e'e thou hast, an' I'd be laith
That ony witless word o' mine
=Sud bring a hair o' thine to scaith.
Though wark sud stan', I'll keep thee richt
=An' strive yer fauties to forgi'e,
Lest I sud tempt the Han' o' Micht,
=In blamin' thus yer waukrife e'e.

Wee Nelly's e'e o' bonnie black,
=Was ance the lieht o' oor abode;
An' sair's my heart, for noo, alack,
=It's closed for aye beneath the sod.
Puir Benny's like a bricht wee gem,
=Lies hid beneath the surging sea;
O, bairnie, whan I think o' them,
=I canna grudge yer waukrife e'e.

Still safe within my arms ye are,
=Whar nae mischance may on ye licht;
Yer e'e still bricht as ony star
=That sparkles i' the broo o' nicht.
Though care sud wring this heart o' mine,
=Hooe'er sae hard my lot may be,
Forbid that I sud patience tine,
=An' blame again yer waukrife e'e.

=======JAMES E. WATT.





JENNY WI' THE AIRN TEETH.

WHAT a plague is this o' mine, winna steek an e'e,
Tho' I hap him ower the heid as cosy as can be!
Sleep, an' let me tae my wark,- a' thae claes to airn!
Jenny wi' the airn teeth, come an' tak' the bairn.

Tak' him to your ain den, where the bowgie bides,
But first put baith your big teeth in his wee plump sides;
Gie your auld grey pow a shake, rive him frae my grup-
Tak' him where nae kiss is gaun when he waukens up.

Whatna noise is that I hear comin' doon the street?
Weel I ken the dump-dump o' her beetie feet.
Mercy me! she's at the door, hear her lift the sneck;
Wheesht! an' cuddle mammy noo closer roun' the neck.

Jenny wi' the airn teeth, the bairn has aff his claes,
Sleepin' safe an' soun', I think - dinna touch his taes;
Sleepin' weans are no for you; ye may turn aboot
An' tak' awa' wee Tam next door, I hear him screichin' oot.

Dump - dump - awa' she gangs back the road she cam';
I hear her at the other door speirin' after Tam.
He's a crabbit, greetin' wean, the warst in a' the toon;
Little like my ain wee wean-losh, he's sleepin' soun'.

Mithers hae an awfu' wark wi' their bairns at nicht-
Chappin' on the chair wi' tangs to gie the rogues a fricht.
Aulder weans are fleyed wi' less-weel aneuch, we ken-
Bigger bowgies, bigger Jennies, frichten muckle men.

=======ALEXANDER ANDERSON ("Surfaceman").





OOR AIN WEE BAIRN.

BONNIE wee totikins,
=Bricht as a bee,
Cheeks aye sae rosy red,
=Brimfu' o' glee;
Mither's sweet petikins,
=Faither's wee joy,
Fillin' the house wi' bliss,
=Free o' alloy.

Darlin' wee laughin' face,
=E'en bricht an' blue;
Kisses like hinny draps
=Come frae that mou'.
In a' the warld wide
=Nane crouser craw,
Goud canna buy oor bairn.
=Bonnie an' braw.

Denty wee dauted bairn,
=Twa spurrin' feet,
Kickin' wi' lifieness,
=Chubby hands meet.
A' thing maun pleasure thee,
=King owre us a';
Oh, may nae blightin' blast
=On thy life fa'.

=======WILLIAM J. CURRIE.





LET THE BAIRNIES PLAY.

OH! let the bairnies play themsel's.
=I like to hear their din,
I like to hear each restless foot
=Come trippin' oot and in.
I like to see each face sae bricht,
=And each wee heart sae gay;
They mind me o' my ain young days-
=Oh! let the bairnies play.

Oh! dinna check their sinless mirth,
=Or mak' them dull and wae
Wi' gloomy looks or cankered words,
=But let the bairnies play.
Auld dunce, wise folks should ne'er forget
=They ance were young as they,
As fu' o' fun and mischief too-
=Then let the bairnies play.

And never try to set a heid,
=Wi' auld age grim and grey,
Upon a wee, saft snawy neck-
=Na! let the bairnies play.
For, oh! there's mony a weary nicht
=And mony a waefu' day
Before snem, if God spares their lives-
=Sae let the bairnies play.

=======MARY INGLIS





ONLY ME.

"WHO is there?"  A gentle tapping
=Comes upon my study door,
Warning me that for the present
=Dreams and quietness both are o'er.
"Who is there?" again I questioned,
=As I oped the door to see,
Then a small voice, lisping, answered,
="Please, papa, it's only me."

"Only me" sat by the fireside,
=With a quaint and childish grace,
Tossing back the golden ringlets
=Falling round his little face.
Though I was a man of thirty,
=And a child of five was he,
Deep and strong was the affection
='Tween myself and "Only me."

He would sit and watch the firelight
=Shining through his small thin hand,
Asking me the strangest questions-
=Things I could not understand.
I would sit for hours together
=With his head against my knee,
Telling many an ancient story,
=Just myself and "Only me."

But a cloud was dimly gath'ring
=O'er my darling's golden head;
"Only me" lay slowly dying,
=While I prayed "Take me instead."
But an angel swift descended-
=From all pain my child set free-
I was left, half broken-hearted;
=Now in truth 'twas "Only me."

Years have passed-I still am waiting,
=Till at last my call shall come;
And once more my child shall greet me
=In our everlasting home.
Though my heart is very lonely,
=Yet I know that I shall see
In a land where is no parting,
=Once again my "Only me."

=======JESSIE LEIGHTON.





THE HAMELESS LADDIE.

BE kind to the bairnie that stands at the door-
The laddie is hameless, and friendless, and poor-
There's few hearts to pity the wee cowerin' form
That seeks at your hallan a bield frae the storm.
Your hame may be humble, your haddin but bare-
For the lowly and poor hae but little to spare-
But you'll ne'er miss a morsel, though sma' be your store,
To the wee friendless laddie that stands at the door.

When the cauld blast is soughin' sae eerie an' chill,
An' the snaw drifts o' winter lie white on the hill,
When ye meet in the gloamin' aroun' the hearthstane,
Be thankfu' for haddins an' hames o' your ain;
An' think what the feckless an' friendless maun dree,
Wi' nae heart to pity an' nae hand to gie;
That wee guileless bosom micht freeze to the core
Gin ye turned the bit laddie awa' frae the door.

The bird seeks a hame o'er the wide ocean wave,
In the depths o' the covert the fox has a cave,
An' the hare has a den 'neath the wild winter snaw,
But the wee dowie laddie has nae hame ava;
Then pity the bairnie, sae feckless an' lane-
Ilka gift to the puir is recorded abune-
For the warm heart o' kindness there's blessing in store,
Sae be kind to the laddie that stands at the door.

=======JAMES THOMSON, Bowden.





THE WEE ORPHAN WEAN.

THE cauld win' was blawin', the sleet fast was fa'in';
=The kye a' stood coorin' in biel o' ilk stane,
When, cripplin' wi' saw feet, an' dreepin' wi' cauld sleet,
=Cam' toddlin' alang a bit wee orphan wean.

His cauld shoon were sair worn, his thin claes were a' torn,
=The cauld win' gaed thro' them the same's he had nane;
Aft hungry an' no fed, an' wearied an' nae bed;
Oh hard is the lot o' the wee orphan wean!

When weans dae foregether tae play a' thegither,
=The puir thing is dowie, an' stauns aye his lane;
An' tho' they are cheerie, an' play till they're wearie,
=There's nane try tae cheer up the wee orphan wean.

An' when, in the gloamin', they hameward are roamin',
=Ilka ane but himsel' their ain road hae ta'en,
But frien'less an' eerie, an' hungry an' weary,
=He's nae hame tae gang tae, the wee orphan wean.

The rich are respected, the puir aft neglected;
=The wealthy hae frien's, but the needy hae nane;
When poverty pinches maist ilka ane flinches
=To succour the puir, or a wee orphan wean.

A' ye that has plenty o' a' that is dainty,
=Gie some to the puir, ye'll ne'er miss 't when it's gane;
Ye will aye get far mair than the morsel ye spare
=To puir needy wand'rer or wee orphan wean.

Let your pity extend, an' the orphan befriend,
=Bring him in to the bink beside your hearthstane;
Ye'll ne'er hae reflection for gi'en your protection
=Tae puir hooseless wand'rer or wee orphan wean.

=======DAVID THOMSON.





BABY MARION

TWO eyes of bonniest, brightest blue
=Has she-my Baby Marion;
And locks the sunlight glances throogh
=In glee, has Baby Marion.
But,ah! I cannot further go
=In praise, my Baby Marion,
If honestly I mean to show
=Your ways, my Baby Marion!

Your face with soot from off the grate
=Is blacked, my Baby Marion;
Stern truth compels me here to state
=The fact, my Baby Marion.

And all unshod is one wee foot-
=Oh, sad, sad Baby Marion!
The other has nor sock nor boot-
=Oh, bad, bad Baby Marion.

That sockleas foot, so dark of hue,
=Declares, my Baby Marion,
What devious ways you've travelled through
=Upstairs, my Baby Marion.

Through wet it's wandered-been in dust-
=In soot, my Baby Marion;
Nay, has a tinge that looks like rust,
=To boot, my Baby Marion.

Those hands! that pinafore! ah, me!
='Tis plain, my Baby Marion,
Example, - precept, - all for thee
=Are vain, my Baby Marion.

And do you claim, with childish grace,
=A kiss, my Baby Marion?
With hands-with pinafore-with face
=Like this, my Baby Marion?

Madame, your wish I must deny:
=I mean, my Baby Marion,
That you are dirty, child, while I
=Am clean, my Baby Marion.

Oh, nice distinction! social sham
=And lie, my Baby Marion;
Though black of fleece, you're still my lamb-
=Don't cry, my Baby Marion;

But come with dusky hands and face
=To me, my Baby Marion;
Assume your own-your rightful place-
=My knee, my Baby Marion.

Forget this small unpleasantness
=In sleep, my Baby Marion;
And I will pray, good angels bless
=And keep my Baby Marion.

=======ELLEN CORBET NICHOLSON.





ROBIN A-REE.

BAIRNIE sae blythe an' fair-
=Robin A-Ree;
Thy wee heart kens nae care,
=Robin A-Ree;
Fillin' oor hame wi' joy,
Weavin' sweet spells fu' coy:
Heaven bless thee, my boy-
=Robin A-Ree.

Bricht are thy e'en sae blue,
=Robin A-Ree.
Dearly oor bairn we lo'e-
=Robin A-Ree;
Juist like a fairy neat:
Lips ripe wi' kisses sweet:
Brawer bairn nane can meet-
=Robin A-Ree.

Oor best care ever thine-
=Robin A-Ree;
Love's spell around thee twine,
=Robin A-Ree;
Angels, frae scenes sae fair,
Shall bring rich blessin's rare,
To bless thee ever mair-
=Robin A-Ree.

=======WILLIAM J. CURRIE.





CRADLE SONG.

HEY doun, dilly dow,
=Hey doun dan!
Weel were your mammie
=Gin you were a man.
You'll lead the shearers,
=And you'll haud the pleugh,
And be like your daddie,
=Aye kin'ly and true.

Doun frae the Eildons
=The snell win' blaws bauld,-
Hap the wee feeties
=And haud oot the cauld.
Winnocks are tirlin',
=And winter is here,
Steek its ain winnocks noo,
=Mammie is near.

Sheep on the mountains
=Ahint the dykes cooer,
Plantins are leafless,
=And dead ilka flooer,
But mammie's wee blossom
=Lies cozy and warm,
And mickle she'll tine
=Ere he come to harm.

Cauld blaws the Nor' win',
=And deep drifts the snaw,
But bairnie's ain daddie
=Will win hame thru' a'.
Steek the wee winnocks noo,
=Still the wee han',
O, weel were your mammie
=Gin you were a man!

You'll hae a hirsel
=A hunder and mair,
You'll ride a hie horse
=To kirk and to fair,
You'll get a bride, too,
=Sae comely and braw,
And bonnie wee bairnies
=To jink through the ha'.

Steek the wee winnocks noo,
=Mammie is near ye,
Steek the wee winnocks noo,
=Naething shall fear ye.
Hey doun, dilly dow,
=Hey doun dan,
Weel were your mammie
=Gin you were a zan!

=======JOHN W. FRASER.





ALICE MAY.

PRATTLING, laughing, all the day,
Merry hearted, ever gay,
Gath'ring flow'rs that strew the way,
=To twine amid her hair;
When the toils of day are o'er
She will meet me at the door-
Meet me, greet me, with a smile,
Then my heart forgets the while
=Its toil, and grief, and care.

Oh, she is my heart's delight,
Thought of day and dream of night;
Dear to me as sunshine bright
=To flow'rs when smiles the spring:
When she's seated on my knee,
Singing love's sweet songs to me,
Prattling of her garden flow'rs,
And the birds within the bowers,
=I'm happier than a king.

=======JOHN FULLERTON.





WHEN OOR WEE PATE'S A MAN.

THERE'S music in my laddie's voice,
=Mair sweet than birds in spring;
Gin cronies clout his brither's lugs,
=He gie's them a' the fling.

Gin onything is wrang at hame,
=Hoo deftly he will plan;
I trust and houp he'll keep the same
=When he grows up a man.

He's daft aboot the sodgers,
=And he haun'les weel the gun;
He aims and pu's the trigger,
=And the crack gie's glorious fun.

The lammie says he'll fecht for a'
=The weans that's in the lan',
If they will only wait till he
=Grows up to be a man.

He welcome's faither coming in
=Wi' ready heart an' han';
I hope his Father true abune
=He'll love when he's a man.

I feel as prood as ony king
=To hear his stories told;
The kin'ly feeling he displays
=Is mair to me than gold.

=======DAN CANNING.





SPEAK KIND TO THE BAIRNS.

SPEAK kind to the bairnies, the wee toddlin' treasures,
=The ingle-neuk angels that banish a' strife;
Their innocent ploys are the source o' their pleasures,
=Their lauchin' an' rompin' the soul o' their life.
O! wha could he thrawn wi' a bairnie's sweet smilin'?
=Wha, wha to their cuddlin' an' kissin' is blind?
The heart maun he deid to a' beauty beguilin',
=That canna thole bairnies, an' speak to them kind.

Our freen's may be cauldrife, our toil may be weary,
=Our way may be sma' aff the little we earn,
But rich in affection, we, joyous an' cheery,
=Wad gie our last bannock to comfort our bairn.
O! what has a man on this earth to be proud o'?
=Were't no' for the nurslin's by heaven designed
To lichten the life that they show him the good o'?
=Sae thole wi' their capers an' speak to them kind.

Sair, sair are the tears o' the bairnies neglectit,
=Their wee hearts are broken aneath a harsh word;
They love to be loved wi' a love unrestrictit,
=An' joy when their troubles are couthelie heard.
Hoo happy to ken we hae some that aye love us,
=Come age, or come death, they will bear us in mind;
They'll drap a love tear on the green sod above us,
=An' sigh as they say that we ever were kind.

=======WILLIAM ALLAN.





SCENES AND PIECES SUITED TO THE NURSERY.





A NOISY NURSERY.

PARTIES REPRESENTED.

_A group of romping children-Servant Mysie using several measure: to repress the boisterous merriment - Children appeal from the tyranny to old Granny. - Mysie might chant her notes to the strain of "Low down in the broom" - Granny to "Gin a body meet a body" - The children to "Highland Laddie" - and Granny take up the same strain._

MYSIE.

"WHISHT! whisht! ye restless, noisy things!
=Ye deave me wi' your din;
I canna hear your granny's voice,
=As round the house ye rin.
Gae wa' and learn your lessons a',
=Or ye may soon ha'e cause
To sing yoursel's anither sang,
=If ance I streek the taws!

The house like ony bedlam rags,
=When ye come frae the school;
The auldest too 's the warst of a',
=Rampaging like a fool.
The neebours-they'll be chapping through-
=They canna thole your noise!
For whar's the house in a' the land
=Like ours for daft-like ploys?

"It's better wearing shoon than sheets,"
=Ye'll hear your granny say,
For weel ken ye she tak's your part,
=Be as mislear'd'e ye may.
And syne ye rant about the house,
=Or roar upon the stair!
It's aye the way ilk rainy day,
=Till my poor head grows sair."

GRANNY.

"O, let the bairnies play themsel's!
=I like to hear their din;
I like to see ilk merry face,
=As they tot out and in.
When young hearts to dance in happy breasts,
=They canna lang be still;-
Sae let the wee things rant awa'-
=It mak's me young mysel'.

"Ye wouldna ha'e them dull and douce,
=To sit like you and me,
Like howlets in a corner a
=Whilk bairnies canna be.
An auld head set on shouthers young;
=The like was never seen;
For bairnies will be bairnies aye,
=As they ha'e ever been.

"Their morning sun shines warm and sweet,
=The flowers are blooming fair,
A wee bird sings in ilka breast,
=That kens nae dool nor care.
So let the birdies sing their fill,
=And let the blossoms blaw,
For bairnies round their granny's hearth
=Are the sweetest flowers of a'.

"They mind me, like a happy dream,
=O' days that ance were mine;
They mind me aye o' voices sweet
=That I ha'e heard langsyne:
I see blythe faces I ha'e seen,
=My mother's hame I see;-
Auld folk, ye ken, grow bairns again,
=And sae it fares wi' me."

CHILDREN'S APPEAL.

"GRANNIE!  Mysie's ta'en my ba',
=Flyting Mysie, flyting Mysie,
And flung my Hollan's heels awa'-
=Cankert, flyting Mysie;
The bonnie ba' ye made to me,
The bools I bought wi' yon bawbee,
She's gart them o'er the window flee-
=Cankert, flyting Mysie.

"Mysie winna let me play,
=Flyting Mysse, flyting Mysie,
Girning a' the lee lang day-
=Cankert, flyting Mysie;
Mary sits upon the stair,
Sabbing wi' a heart fu' sair,-
And ither bairns sae happy there-
=And a' for flyting Mysie."

GRANNY.

"O THAT Mysie's tongue would tire!
=Flyting Mysie, flyting Mysie,
Never done wi' spitting fire-
=Cankert, flyting Mysie;
Raging aye the bairns amang,
Be they right or be they wrang,
Endless is the weary clang
=O' cankert, flyting Mysie.

"Up the stair and down the stair,
=Flyting Mysie, flyting Mysie,
Rings her tongue for ever mair-
=Cankert, flyting Mysie;
Aye the latest sound at night,
Aye the first wi' morning light,
Waukening bairnies in a fright-
=Cankert, flyting Mysie.

"Peace and love a' frightit flee,
=Flyting Mysie, flyting Mysie,
Hame can never happy be
=For cankert, flyting Mysie;
Seldom blinks a sunny hour,
Mysie's tongue, so sharp and dour,
Turns a' the bairnies' tempers sour-
=Fy on flyting Mysie!

"Muckle ye've to answer for,
=Flyting Mysie, flyting Mysie,
Driving kindness to the door,
=Cankert, flyting Mysie;
Maids and mothers aye should mind,
'As bends the twig the tree's inclined,'
Rear them kindly, they'll grow kind-
=But dinna flyte like Mysie!"

=======Alex Smart.





THE AULD BEGGAR-MAN.

A PARABLE.

"WHA totters sae wearily up to the style,
Wi' back sairly bent, and forfoughten wi' toil,
Wi' age-wrinkled face, and the tear in his ee-
I wonder wha this weary body can be."

"I'll hound out our Towser," quo' wee Johnnie Graem,
"Whose barking and biting will chase frae our hame
The sair ragged gangrel;" sae aff like the win'
Ran Johnnie to loose the big dog frae the chain.

"Stop, stop," quoth his father, and mildly replied,
While Johnnie sair frighted crap close to his side;
"Gae down bye and meet him, and gi'e him your hand-
Speak kindly, and welcome the auld beggar-man."

Wee Johnnie stood swithering, baith angry and fear'd-
What a pity that bairns should be cross and mislear'd-
Till up cam' the wanderer, wha craved this small boon-
A cup of cold water, and leave to sit down.

"Come in to the ingle and rest you a while,"
Quoth Johnnie Graem's lather, and then wi' a smile,
Wi' a heart fu' o' kindness he reached out his han',
And heartily welcom'd the auld beggar-man.

Nae frown on his father's face wee Johnnie sees,
While he cracks wi' the auld beggar-man at his ease;
And he wonders what charm conjured up the sweet smile,
Which played round the mouth of his mother the while.

He wondered to hear the tired stranger narrate,
How the sun of his life had been dimmed by the hate
And the fell disobedience of his only son,
Whose ill deeds had brought his grey hairs to the grun'.

How his auld wife had wept when her ne'er-do-weel bairn,
Wi' feelings like snaw, cauld, and heart hard as airn,
Had driven them out on a pitiless warl',
Where rich folk ha'e nae ruth, and poorer folk snarl.

How she wept, broken-hearted, in hunger she pined,
How her last breath had pass'd 'mid the cauld winter's wind.
Johnnie glower'd when he saw how the het, het tears ran
O'er the cheeks and the chin o' the auld beggar-man.

He look'd at the auld man, and syne at his father,
And he saw pity's tear dew the oheeke o' his mother;
And the wee heart o' Johnnie was sair rack'd wi' pain;
And he grad till the auld beggar-men was lang gane.

O Pity! thy form, like an angel's, is bright,
Thou Cherub commissioned from realms of pure light.
May Pity and Charity, linked with Love,
Dwell on earth as they dwell with our FATHER above.

=======James Manson.





JOHN HOWARD.

A BIOGRAPHY.

COME hither, while I tell a tale about a man of fame,
Known for his great philanthropy - John Howard was his name.
With wealth to meet his wishes, he through many lands did roam,
Till chance made him a captive when returning towards home.

When pining in captivity, he thought upon the pains
Of those unhappy sufferers who are bound in prison chains;
To lessen all the horrors of the captive's direful lot,
He feared nor pain nor danger, while a remedy he sought.

He travelled south, he travelled north, he entered many a cell,
Where gaunt disease and agony in prison darkness dwell.
He toil'd with ceaseless energy-his meek heart op'd the gates
Of jails and lazarettos, as full many a book narrates.

He had little of the culture which is bought in classic schools,
His teacher was fair Mercy, and he practised all her rules
His eloquence sprung from the heart, inspired by virtue's flame,
And his manners thence acquired a grace which consecrate his name.

War's bloody banner flaunting, by a despot's hand unfurled,
May gain the conqueror laurels from a subjugated world,
But the blazon of his high emprise - the trumpet-blast of fame-
Which proclaims the victor's glory, are but trophies of his shame.

For despair, and want, and suffering, follow howling in his train,
And so loud the victor's poean, just so loud the shriek of pain;
But the glory of John Howard-the benevolent, the mild-
Was, that misery fled before him, and where'er he went hope smiled.

And did his labours end in vain? - what followed? you inquire,
I'll tell you all his history, Sit closer round the fire.
He sent a full and true report to Britain's Parliament,
Of all the woes he witnessed in jails, where'er he went.

And patiently they listen'd to the horrible array
Of scenes in noisome dungeons, hid from the eye of day;
And speedily they seconded the good man's virtuous scheme,
Till they whom law had tortured wept with joy at Howard's name.

And from land to land he travelled, for his mission knew no bound,
For he sought to lessen suffering, wherever it was found;
Till, when ministering to the fever-struck in Tartary afar,
He died, and found a resting-place in the empire of the Czar.

And many a costly cenotaph was raised to honour him,-
But his high fame needs no monument, and never can grow dim
For as long as men revere the good, his virtues shall endure,
And his name is deeply graven in the memories of the pure.

=======James Mason.





THE CANDLEMAS KING

"I'M sure this is Candlemas, mother, ye ken,
=Then haste ye and bring me my sabbath-day claes,
Rab Russel, and Tam o' the Hazel-tree glen,
=Are baith out o' sight o' the Patterton braes!
My task I ha'e learn'd, and my face I ha'e wash'd,
=And I counted yestreen ilka hour that did ring,-
Wi' supping my parritch I canna be fash'd,-
=O, I wish I were sure I'd be Candlemas king!

'Nae less than a shilling I've gather'd mysel',
=My father has promis'd another to gi'e,
While Johnny Macfarlane, wha never can spell,
=Has only a groat, if he tells na a lie."
Poor robin is happing alang the roadside,
=And he crumbles his piece to the chittering wee thing,
While aft to himsel' he is saying wi' pride,
="How happy I'll be when I'm Candlemas king!"

The school he comes near wi' a heart blithe and bauld,
=And as supple's an eel in the Rookin linn burn;
There's ice on the dubs, but he minds na the cauld,
=Tho' blae as a blawort his rosy cheeks turn.
O! what are the best o' enjoyments that come
=To gild and to gladden our autumn or spring?
Experience still whispers this truth as the sum-
="'Tis the fanciful bliss of a Candlemas king!"

=======George Donald.





THE MITHERLESS BAIRN.

WHEN a' ither bairnies are hush'd to their hame,
By aunty, or cousin, or frecky grand-dame,
Wha stands last and lanely, and sairly forfairn?
'Tis the poor dowie laddie - the mitherless bairn.
The mitherless bairnie creeps to his lane bed,
Nane covers his cauld back, nor haps his bare head;
His wee hackit heelies are hard as the airn,
And lithless the lair o' the mitherless bairn!

Aneath his cauld brow, siccan dreams hover there,
O' hands that wont kindly to kaim his dark hair!
But morning brings clutches, a' reckless and stern,
That lo'e na the looks o' the mitherless bairn!
The sister who sang o'er his saftly rock'd bed,
Now rests in the mools where their mammie is laid;
While the father toils sair his wee bannock to earn,
And kens na the wrangs o' his mitherless bairn.

Her spirit that pass'd in the hour of his birth,
Still watches his lone lorn wand'rings on earth,
Recording in heaven the blessings they earn,
Wha couthiely deal wi' the mitherless bairn!
Oh! speak him na harshly-he trembles the while,
He bends to your bidding and blesses your smile:-
In their dark hour o' anguish, the heartless shall learn,
That God deals the blow for the mitherless bairn!

=======William Thom.





PRECEPT AND EXAMPLE

LET precept and example aye hand in hand be seen,
For gude advice is plenty, and unco easy gi'en;
And bairnies in the uptak' ye ken are seldom slow,
So aye, whate'er advice ye gi'e, a gude example show.

They're gleg at imitation, as ilka ane may ken:
The lassies a' would women be - the laddies would be men;
So lead them kindly by the hand the road that they should go,
And aye, what e'er advice ye gi'e, a gude example show.

And should you promise aught to them, aye keep your promise true,
For truth a precious lesson is that they maun learn frae you;
And ne'er reprove a naughty word wi' hasty word or blow,
But aye, whate'er advice ye gi'e, a gude example show.

And so to home-born truth and love ye'll win ilk bonnie bairn,
For as they hear the auld cock craw, the young are sure to learn:
They'll spurn at mean hypocrisy, wi' honest pride they'll glow,
And bless the parents' watchfu' care wha gude example show.

=======Alex Smart.





BROTHERS QUARRELLING.

PARTIES.

_Davie and Sandy blaming each other as being the aggressor - Both appeal to their Father, who gives them advice, and recites his feelings on the occasion of a Brother's Death. - Davie and Sandy may try to sing their complaints to "John Anderson," if they cannot find better - The Father, in his Advice, to "Logie o' Buchan." - And in Brother's Death, "On a bank of flowers."_

DAVIE.

"FATHER, settle Sandy!
=He's making mou's at me,
He's aye plague, plaguing,
=And winna let me be;
And syne he looks so simple-like,
=Whene'er he thinks he's seen,
But just as soon's you're out o' sight
=He's making mou's again.

"Father, settle Sandy!
=He's crying names to me,
He's aye tig, tigging,
=And winna let me be;
But O sae sly, he hauds his tongue
=Whene'er he kens ye're near,
And says't again below his breath,
=That nane but me can hear."

SANDY.

"Father, settle Davie!
=It's him that winna gree,
He's aye jeer, jeering,
=And lays the blame on me;
I daurna speak, I daurna look,
=I daurna move a limb,
For if I gi'e a wee bit laugh
=He says I laugh at him."

FATHER.

"O LEARN to be loving, and kindly agree,
At home all as happy as brothers should be,
Ere distance may part you, or death may divide,
And leave you to sigh o'er a lonely fireside.

"The sweet look of kindness, the peace-speaking tongue,
So pleasant and lovely in old or in young,
Will win the affections of all that you see,
And make you still dearer to mother and me.

"But O! if divided by distance or death,
How sore would it grieve you till life's latest breath,
That anger or discord should ever have been,
Or aught but affection two brothers between."

A BROTHER'S DEATH.

"I HAD a brother dear who died
=In childhood's opening bloom,
And many a sad and tender thought
=Springs from his early tomb;
And still the sad remembrance comes,
=With all its former woe,
Although my little brother died
=Full thirty years ago!

"It comes with all the tenderness
=Of childhood's gentle hours,
When hand in hand we roved along
=To cull gay summer flowers;
Or wandered through the old church-yard,
=Beneath the smiling sky,
And played among the lowly graves
=Where he was soon to lie!

I see him yet with locks of gold,
=And eyes of heavenly blue,
With pale, pale brow, though ruddy cheeks-
=Twin roses bathed in dew.
And when he pined in sore disease,
=I thought my heart would break,
I could have laid me down and died
=Most gladly for his sake.

"And well do I remember still,
=Beneath the starry sky,
In childish fancy I have traced
=His bright abode on high;
I knew his spirit was in heaven,
=And from some lovely star
I thought his gentle eye looked down
=And saw me from afar!

"In solitude, at evening hour,
=I've found it sad and sweet,
To muse among the dear old scenes
=Trod by his little feet;
And many an old frequented spot,
=Where we were wont to play,
Was hallowed by remembrance still
=In manhood's riper day.

"A bank there was with wild flowers say,
=And whins all blooming round,
Where once upon a summer day
=A small bird's nest we found,
I haunted so that sacred spot,
=And paced it o'er and o'er,
My well worn footprints on the grass
=For many a day it bore.

"And I have gazed upon his grave,
=While tears have dimm'd my eye,
To think that one so young and fair
=In that low bed should lie;
Should lie unconscious of our woe,
=Of all our love and care,
Unconscious of the summer sun
=That shone so sweetly there.

"And I have lingered on the spot,
=When years had rolled away,
And seen his little grave upturned
=To mix with kindred clay.
Cold dust alone remained of all
=Our former joy and pride,
And they who loved and mourned for him,
=Now slumber by his side."

=======Alex Smart.





THE SELF-WILL'D BOY.

_Leaves home and becomes a cabin boy - his parents die of grief - he is shipwrecked - his Lament and Prayer - is rescued - reaches home, and, finding his father and mother dead, sinks into despondency.  Better recite man attempt to sing the Narrative - The Lament will suit either the air of "O why left I my hame?" or "Auld Robin Gray."_

Narrative by ALEX. SMART.
Lament by ALEX. RODGER.


NARRATIVE.

COME listen now, ye children dear!
=Who live at home in gladness,
And from the lips of love, oh hear!
=A simple tale of sadness;
And when you're men and women grown,
=You'll prize the truths I tell you;
Nor mourn o'er loving parents gone,
=When tears can nought avail you.

Poor Willie! was a thoughtless boy,
=Though kInd and honest-hearted,
His loving parents' hope and joy,
=Ere from his home he parted;
But restless thoughts on him laid hold,
=A wild and wayward notion,
That he would be a sailor bold,
=And rove upon the ocean.

O Willie was a lightsome boy!
=With cheeks like opening roses,
And eyes that sparkled bright with joy,
=Like stars when evening closes;
As fleet of foot as any roe
=That bounds o'er heathy mountain,
And fresh as wilding flowers that grow
=Beside the gushing fountain.

But he forsook his happy home,
=All friendly counsel scorning,
Far on the dangerous sea to roam,
=And left his parents mourning.
And when the nights grew long and dark,
=With winds in wild commotion,
They lay and thought upon the bark,
=With Willie on the ocean!

They thought on many a hidden snare,
=The darkness and the dangers,
The hardships sailor boys must bear
='Mong rode unfeeling strangers;
But still they hoped and prayed that HE,
=Who stays the tempest's roaring,
Would shield him on the raging sea,
=Their Willie home restoring.

O they had hoped to see the day!
=Would fill their hearts with gladness.
When he would prove their age's stay,
=In sickness or in sadness;
And then, within the narrow bed,
=Released from mortal cumber,
That he would lay each weary head,
=In yon churchyard to slumber.

But sickness bowed the father down-
=No tidings came to cheer him-
And ere the winter wild had flown,
=They to his grave did bear him:
And sad and sore his mother pined-
=Oh! how could Willie grieve her,
And break a heart so true and kind,-
=But death did soon relieve her.

And you will weep the song to hear
=That tells his sad disaster,
And how he mourned his parents dear,
=With tears that followed faster
Than summer rain, which bathes the bloom
=Of flowers all parched and fading;
But, ah! no tears revive the tomb,
=Nor heal the beast's upbraiding!



THE LAMENT.

"O WHAT could urge me on to tempt the restless deep?
And wring my parents' hearts, till I forced them both to weep?
Why quit their peaceful bield for the wild tempestuous sea,
A castaway to pine in a strange countrie?

A stubborn wilful boy-no warning would I take,
Although I saw their hearts a-bursting for my sake;
Entreaties, prayers, and tears, were lost alike on me,
Ah! how I feel them now in this strange countrie?

"O where's the wimpling burn? - the bonnie sunny brae,
Where the minnows used to sport-the lammies frisk and play?
Nae wimpling burn is here - nae sunny brae I see,
But a' is bleak and drear in this strange countrie.

The sea ran mountains high, our ship was dashed to wreck
While every living thing was swept from off the deck,
And now a barren rock to all that's left for me,
To perish here unseen in this strange countrie.

"Our noble captain sank with all his crew so brave,
And every gallant heart now sleeps beneath the wave,
While I am left alone in hopeless misery,
A harder lot to mourn in this strange countrie.

O THOU! WHOSE WORD SUPREME can bid the winds be still!
Or make the billows heave, obedient to thy will,
Thine erring child forgive! - O succour send thou me!
Their broken hearts to heal in my ain countrie."

A vessel hove in sight-the sea boy reached his home,
No more to plough the deep nor from his friends to roam!
He saw his mother's face! - no mother then was she,
Her purer part had fled to a Pure Countrie!

Her heart for him had broke, his sire's had broken too,
The sea boy now was left his erring ways to rue,
A gloom came o'er his soul-a blighted bud was he,
Ah! never more to bloom in his ain countrie!