Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Jacobite minstrelsy

MINSTRELSY. 265
Friendless I lie, and friendless I gang,
I've nane but kind Heaven to tell o' my wrang.
" Thy auld arm," quo' Heaven, " canna strike
down the proud :
I will keep to mysel' the avenging thy blood."
THE LOVELY LASS OF INVERNESS.
There liv'd a lass in Inverness,
She was the pride of a' the town ;
Blythe as the lark on gowan tap,
When frae the nest it's newly flown.
.A t kirk she wan the auld folks' love,
At dance she wan the lads's een ;
She was the blythest o' the blythe,
At wooster-trystes or Hallowe'en.
As I came in by Inverness,
The simmer sun was sinking down ;
there I saw the weel-faur'd lass,
And she was greeting through the town.
The gray-hair'd men were a' i' the streets,
And auld dames crying, (sad to see !)
" The flower o' the lads o' Inverness
Lie bluidy on Culloden lea !"
She tore her haffet links o' gowd,
And dighted aye her comely e'e :
" My father lies at bluidy Carlisle,
At Preston sleep my brethren three !
1 thought my heart could haud nae mair,
Mae tears could never blind my e'e ;
But the fa' o' ane has burst my heart,
A dearer ane there ne'er could be.