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

1-iO
THE POCKET SONGSTER
O speakna o' your courtly queans !
My wee bit lassie fools them a' :
The little cuttie's done me skaith,
She's stown my thoughtless heart awa'.
Her smile was like the gray-eed morn,
Whan spreading on the mountain green ;
Her voice saft as the mavis' sang ;
An' sweet the twinkle o' her een ;
Aboon her brow, sae bonny brent.
Her raven locks waved o'er her ee ;
An* ilka slee bewitching glance
Conveyed a dart o' love to me.
O speakna o' your courtly queans, &c-
The lasses fair in Scotia's isle,
Their beauties a' what tongue can tell ?
But o'er the fairest o' them a'
My wee bit lassie bears the bell. "
O had I never marked her smile,
Nor seen the twinkle o' her ee !
It mightna been my lot the day,
A waefu' lade o' care fo dree.
O speakna o' your courtly queans, &c.
GalL
LOGAN BRAES.
Tune — Logan Water,
O Logan sweetly didst thou glide,
That day I was my Willie's bride ;
And years sinsyne hae o'er us run.
Like Logan to the simmer sun.