Inglis Collection of printed music > Printed music > Composite music volumes containing different issues of Thomson's octavo collection of the songs of Burns and Sir Walter Scott > Volumes 1-2 > Thomson's collection of the songs of Burns, Sir Walter Scott and other eminent lyric poets ancient & modern

48
THE OLD SIBYL.
The Song has generally been considered a translation from the
Welsh by Gilbert Cooper ; but, in the Edinburgh Review,
Vol. XI. p. 37, the honour of the production is given to
Steevens, the Commentator on Shakespeare.
Awat, let nought to love displeasing,
My Winifreda move your fear ;
Let nought delay the heavenly blessing,
Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy care.
What though no grants of royal donors,
With pompous titles grace our blood ;
We'll shine in more substantial honours,
And to be noble we'll be good.
What though from fortune's lavish bounty,
No mighty treasures we possess.
We'll find within our pittance plenty,
And be content without excess.
Still shall each kind returning season
Sufficient for our wishes give,
For we will live a life of reason,
And that's the only life to live.
Our name, while virtue thus we tender,
Shall sweetly sound where'er 'tis spoke :
And all the great ones much shall wonder,
How they admire such little folk.
Through youth, and age, in love excelling,
We'll hand in hand together tread;
Sweet smiling peace shall crown our dwelling,
And babes, sweet smiling babes, our bed.
How should I love the pretty creatures,
Whilst round my knees they fondly clung ;
To see them look their mother's features j
To hear them lisp their mother's tongue.
And when with envy, time transported,
Shall think to rob us of our joys,
You'll in your girls again be courted,
And I'll go wooing in my boys.