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(396) next ››› Page 388Page 388Sae merry as we twa ha'e been

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My sheep I neglected — I lost my sheep-hook,
And all the gay haunts of my youth I forsook ;
No more for Amynta fresh garlands I wove ;
For ambition, I said, would soon cure me of love.
Oh, what had my youth with ambition to do ?
Why left I Amynta ? Why broke I my vow ?
Oh, give me my sheep, and my sheep-hook restore,
And I '11 wander from love and Amynta no more.
Through regions remote in vain do I rove,
And bid the wide ocean secure me from love !
Oh, fool ! to imagine that aught could subdue
A love so well-founded, a passion so true !
Alas, 'tis too late at thy fate to repine !
Poor shepherd ! Amynta no more can be thine ;
Thy tears are all fruitless, thy wishes are vain,
The moments neglected return not again.
The air for which this song was written is one commonly
called in old collections My Apron, Dearie, from a rude song in
which these words were conspicuous, of which it was the original
In connection with the poetical gifts of the brother and sister
Gilbert and Jean Elliot, it is interesting to know that their
father Sir Gilbert, a judge of the Court of Session under the
title of Lord Minto, and who died in 1763, was a lover of poetry,
and shewed in himself a gift for verse. The only composition of
his which has been brought to bight, is an Italian canzonet which
he wrote for Signora Passim, to be sung to a Scotch air at some
of the concerts at which she appeared about the ' fifties.'
Yeduto in prato
II mio pastor,
II crin coronato,
D'un serto di iior'.
H sole negli occhi
La fide nel sen',
Ah ! dove s' asconde ?
II caro mio ben' ?

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