Broadside ballads entitled 'Burns and his Highland Mary' and 'Gae Bring tae me a Pint o' Wine'

Transcription

BURNS AND HIS HIGHLAND MARY.

In green Caledonia there ne'er were twa lovers
Sae enraptured and happy in each ither's arms,
As Burns the sweet bard and his dear Highland Mary.
And fondly and sweetly he sang o' her charms.
And lang will his sang sae enchanting and bonnie,
Be heard with delight on his ain native plains ;
And lang will the name o' his dear Highland Mary
Be sacred to love in his heart-melting strains.

O, 'twas a May day, and the flowers o' the summer
Were blooming in wildness a' lovely and fair,
That our two lovers met in a grove o' sweet bowers,
Which grew on the banks o' the clear winding Ayr.
And O, to them baith 'twas a meeting fu' tender,
And it was the last for a while they should hae ;
Sae love's purest raptures they tasted thegether,
Till the red setting sun showed the close of the day.

O, Mary, dear Mary, exclaimed her fond lover,
Ye carry my heart to the Highlands with thee;
Every burnie and bank, every grove and green bower,
May talk o' the love o' my lassie and me.
My life's sweetest treasure, my ain charming Mary,
To thee I'll be ever devoted and true;
For the heart that is beating sae fast in this bosom,
The heart that can never love ony but you.

O, dinna bide lang in the Highlands, my Mary.
O, dinna bide lang in the Highlands frae me ;
For I love thee sincerely, I love thee ower dearly,
To be happy sae far, my dear Mary, frae thee.
I winna bide lang, my dear lad, in the Highlands,
I winna bide lang, for ye winna be there;
Although I hae friends I like weel in the Highlands,
The ane I lo'e best's on the banks o' the Ayr.

Then he kissed her red lips, they were sweeter than
rose,
And he strained her lily white breast to his heart;

And her tears fell like dew drops at e'en on his bosom,
As she said my fond lover, alas ! we must part.
Then farewell, he said, and flew frae his Mary;
O farewell, said Mary, she could sae nae mair;
O little they kent they had parted for ever.
When they parted that night on the banks o' the Ayr.

But the green summer saw   but a few summer
mornings,
Till she in the bloom of her beauty and pride,
Was laid in the grave like a bonny young flower,
In Greenock kirkyard, on the banks o' the Clyde.
And Burns, the sweet bard o' his ain Caledonia,
Lamented his Mary in many a sad strain ;
Ah ! sair did he weep for his dear Highland Mary;
And ne're did his heart love sae deeply again.

Then bring me the lilies and bring me the roses,
And bring me the daisies that grow on the vale ;
And bring me the dew of a midsummer evening,
And bring me the breath of the sweet scented gale;
And bring me the sigh of a fond lover's bosom,
And bring me the tear of a fond lover's e'e.
And I'll pour them a' down on thy grave, Highland
Mary.
For the sake o' thy Burns, wha dearly lo'ed thee.

Gae bring tae Me
a Pint o' Wine.

Gae bring tae me a pint o' wine,
And fill it in a silver tassie,
That I may drink, before I go,
A service to my bonnie lassie.
The boat rocks at the pier o' Leith,
Fu' loud the winds blaws frae the ferry,
The ship rides by the Berwick Law,
And I maun leave my bonnie Mary.

The trumpets sound, the banner fly,
The glittering spears are ranked ready;
The shouts o' war are heard afar,
The battle closes deep and bloody !
It's no' the roar o' sea or shore
Wad mak' me langer wish to tarry,
Nor shouts o' war that's heard afar,
It's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary.

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