Scotland/Scots > Burns' celebrated songs

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From his bofom that heav’d, the laf! torrent was fireatning>
Ami pale was his v-ifage, deep mark’d with a tear j
And dim was that eye, once expreffivly beaming,
'I'hat melted in love, and vbat kindled in war.
How fmit was poor Adelaide’s heart at :he light!
How bitter the wept o'er tile victim of war !
“ Had thou come, my fond love, this latt forrowfu! night,
“ To cheer the lone heart of your wounded Huffar !’’,
“ Thou (halt live ! , (he reply’d) heaven’s u.ercy relieving,
’4‘ Each anguilhing wound fhall forbid me to mourn,”
“ Ah ! no, the lad pang in my bofom is h aving,
“ No light of the morn dial! to Henry return :
“ Thou charmer of life, ever tender and true,
“ Ye babes of my love that await me alar”—
His f iultering tongue scarce could murmur, adieu !
When he funk in her arms, the poor wounded Huffar.
’Jenny's Ba wbee.
I Met four chaps yon birks amang,
Wi’ hanging lugs, and faces lang,
I fpiei’d at neighbour Banldy Strang,
What are they thefe we fee?
Quoth he, I?k cream-fac'd pawky chiel,
'1 hinks himfel cunning as the deil,
And here they cam’ avva to deal
Jenny’s Bawbee.
The fird, a Captain to his trade,
Wi’ ill-lin’d fcull, and back well clad,
March’d roun’ the barn, and bye the died,
And papptd on his knee j
Quoth he, “ My Goddefs, Nymph, and Queen,
“ Your beauty dazzl’d baith my een,”
Tho’ dei! a beauty he had feen,
But Jenny’s Bawbee.