Glen Collection of printed music > Printed music > Composite music volume > Davidson's musical miracles

DAVIDSON'S UNIVERSAL MELODIST.
51
MAGGIE LAUDER.
Scottish Melody.
lAUegrello Spiritoso
Whawad-nabe in love Wi' bon-nie Mag-gic Lau-der? A pi-per met lier gaun to
,=^=^^
Fife, and spier'd what was't they ca'd her ; Right scorn - ful - ly she answer'dhim, — 'Be-
-j-p^fzpzii
h^l^-
riz=^
i^^^^^^sP^iii
gone, you hal -Ian - sha-l<er ! Jog onyourgate,you blad -der-skate,MynameisMag-gieLau-der.'
' M;iirgie,' quo' he, ' and, by my bags,
I'm fidging fain to see thee ',
Sit down by me, my bonuie bird, —
In troth, I winna steer thee ;
For I'm a piper to my trade.
My name is Rob the Ranter ;
The lasses loup as they were daft
When I blaw up my chanter.'
' Piper,' quo' Meg, ' ha'e ye your bags.
Or is your drone in order?
If you be Rob, I've heard of you, —
Live you upo' the border ?
The lasses a' baith far and near
Hfwe heard of Rob the Ranter ;
ru shake my foot wi' right good will,
Gif you'll blaw up your chanter.'
Then to his bags he flew -with speed,
About the drone he twisted ;
Meg up, and wallop'd o'er the green,
For brawly could she frisk it.
' Weel done,' quo' he, — ' Play up,' quo' she
' Weel bobb'd,' quo' Rob the Ranter :
' It's worth my while to play indeed,
When I ha'e sic a dancer.'
' Weel ha'e ye play'd your part,' quo' Meg,-
' Your cheeks are like the crimson ;
There's nane in Scotland plays so weel,
Since we lost Habby Simson.
I've liv'd in Fife, baith maid and wife,
These ten years and a quarter ;
Gin you should come to Anster fair.
Spier ye for Maggie Lauder.'
^Allegretto.
BANNOCKS O' BARLEY-MEAL.
The Poetry by Sir A. Boswell, Bart.
;3-^.E3^^E^j^^£5:
^^^^
Ar - gyle is my name, and you may think it strange, To live at a court, yet ne-ver tochange:
To fac-tion or ty-ran-ny e-qual-ly foe, The good of the land's the sole motive I know. The
mycoun-try andkingi havefac'd; In ci - ty or bat-tie I ne'er was dis-grac'd ; I've
done what I could for my coun-try'sweal; NowI'U feast up-on ban-nocks o' bar-ley-meal.
Ye riots and revels of London, adieu!
And folly, ye foplings, I leave her to you 1
For Scotland, I mingled in bustle and strife ;
For myself, I seek peace, and an innocent life.
I'll haste to the Highlands, and visit each scene
With Maggie, my love, iq her rockley o' green;
On the banks of Glenary what pleasure I'll feel,
While she shares my bannock o' barley -meal I
And if it chance Maggie should bring me a son.
He shall fight for his king as his father has done ;
I'll hang up my sword with an oW soldier's pride-.—
1 may he be worthy to wear't on his side.
1 pant for the breeze of my lov'd native place ;
I long for the smile of each welcoming face ;
I'll aflf to the Highlands as fast's I can reel,
And feast upon bannocks o' barley-meal.