BANKS OF CREE.

I swear and vow that only thou
Shall ever be my dearie.
Only thou, I swear and vow,
Shall ever be my dearie.
Lassie, say thou lo’es me;
Or if thou wiltna be my ain,
Sayna thou'lt refuse me :
If it winna, canna be,

Thou for thine may choose me,
Let me, lassie, quickly die,
Trusting that thou lo'es me.
Lassie, let me quickly die,
Trusting that thou lo’es me.

71

BANKS OF CREE.

TUNE-The Flowers of Edinburgh.

HERE is the glen, and here the bower,
All underneath the birchen shade;
The village-bell has toll'd the hour,
O, what can stay my lovely maid?
"Tis not Maria's whispering call;
"Tis but the balmy-breathing gale,
Mixt with some warbler's dying fall,
The dewy star of eve to hail.

It is Maria's voice I hear!

So calls the woodlark in the grove His little faithful mate to cheer,

At once 'tis music-and 'tis love.

And art thou come? and art thou true?
O welcome dear to love and me!
And let us all our vows renew,
Along the flowery banks of Cree.

ON THE SEAS AND FAR AWAY.

TUNE-O'er the Hills and far awa.

How can my poor heart be glad,
When absent from my sailor lad?
How can I the thought forego,
He's on the seas to meet the foe?
Let me wander, let me rove,
Still my heart is with my love;
Nightly dreams and thoughts by day
Are with him that's far away.

CHORUS,

On the seas and far away,
On stormy seas and far away:
Nightly dreams and thoughts by day
Are aye with him that's far away.

When in summer's noon I faint,
As weary flocks around me pant,
Haply in this scorching sun
My sailor's thund'ring at his gun:
Bullets, spare my only joy!
Bullets, spare my darling boy!
Fate, do with me what you may,
Spare but him that's far away!
On the seas, &c.

At the starless midnight hour,

When winter rules with boundless power;

As the storms the forest tear,

And thunders rend the howling air,

Listening to the doubling roar,

Surging on the rocky shore,

HARK! THE MAVIS.

All I can- -I weep and pray,
For his weal that's far away.
On the seas, &c.

Peace, thy olive wand extend,

And bid wild war his ravage end,
Man with brother man to meet,
And as a brother kindly greet:

Then may heaven with prosp'rous gales
Fill my sailor's welcome sails,

To my arms their charge convey,

My dear lad that's far

On the seas, &c.

away.

HARK! THE MAVIS.

TUNE-Ca' the Yowes to the Knowes.

CHORUS.

Ca' the yowes to the knowes,

Ca' them where the heather grows,
Ca' them where the burnie rows,
My bonnie dearie.

HARK! the mavis' evening sang
Sounding Clouden's woods amang;
Then a faulding let us gang,

My bonnie dearie.

Ca' the, &c.

We'll gae down by Clouden side,
Thro' the hazels spreading wide,
O'er the waves that sweetly glide
To the moon sae clearly.

Ca' the, &c.

73

74 SHE SAYS SHE LO'ES ME BEST OF A'.
Yonder Clouden's silent towers,
Where at moonshine midnight hours,
O'er the dewy-bending flowers,
Fairies dance sae cheery.
Ca' the, &c.

Ghaist nor bogle shalt thou fear
Thou'rt to love and heaven sae dear,
Nocht of ill may come thee near,
My bonnie dearie.

Ca' the, &c.

Fair and lovely as thou art,
Thou hast stown my very heart;
I can die-but canna part,

My bonnie dearie,

Ca' the, &c.

SHE SAYS SHE LO'ES ME BEST OF A',

TUNE-Onagh's Water-fall.

SAE flaxen were her ringlets,

Her eyebrows of a darker hue,

Bewitchingly o'er-arching

Twa laughing een o' bonnie blue.

Her smiling, sae wyling,

Wad make a wretch forget his woe;

What pleasure, what treasure,

Unto these rosy lips to grow: Such was my Chloris' bonnie face, When first her bonnie face I saw, And aye my Chloris' dearest charm, She says she lo'es me best of a'.

SHE SAYS SHE LO'ES ME BEST OF A'.

Like harmony her motion;

Her pretty ankle is a spy

Betraying fair proportion,

Wad make a saint forget the sky. Sae warming, sae charming,

Her faultless form and gracefu' air;
Ilk feature-auld Nature

Declar'd that she could do nae mair:
Her's are the willing chains o' love,
By conquering beauty's sovereign law;
And aye my Chloris' dearest charm,
She says she lo'es me best of a'.

Let others love the city,

And gaudy shew at sunny noon;

Gie me the lonely valley,

The dewy eve, and rising moon Fair beaming, and streaming,

Her silver light the boughs amang; While falling, recalling,

The amorous thrush concludes his sang: There, dearest Chloris, wilt thou rove

By wimpling burn and leafy shaw, And hear my vows o' truth and love, And say thou lo'es me best of a'?

HOW LANG AND DREARY.
TUNE-Cauld Kail in Aberdeen.

How lang and dreary is the night,
When I am frae my dearie;
I restless lie frae e'en to morn,

Tho' I were ne'er sae weary.

75