Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Pocket songster, or, Caledonian warbler

12 THE POCKET SONGSTER;
foul befa' the silly clown,
Vfha may her get, an' disna claut her ;
1 wadna care the wretch to drown,
E'en in sweet-rinning Galla water.
Sweet is her face, her shape divine,
Proud may he be, indeed, wha's aught her ;
I'd count mysel', were she but mine^
The richest far on Galla water.
But fare-thee-weel, thou peerless maid !
May envy ne'er thy fame bespatter ;
Lang inay'st thou, 'neath the verdant shade,
Still shine, the flower o' Galla water. Bruce.
I GAED A WAEFU' GATE YESTREEN.
I GAED a waefu' gate yestreen,
A gate, I fear, I'll dearly rue ;
I gat my death frae twa sweet een,
Twa lovely een o' bonnie blue.
'Twas not her golden ringlets bright.
Her lips like roses wet wi' dew,
Her heaving bosom lily white.
It was her een sae bonnie blue.
She talk'd.; she smiled, my heart she vi^iledj
She charM'd my soul I watna hov/ ;
An' aye the stound, the deadly wound,
Cam frae her een sae bonnie blue.