SWEET FA'S THE EVE. 81 The snaw-drap and primrose our woodlands adorn, Thou lav'rock that springs frae the dews of the lawn, The shepherd to warn o' the grey-breaking dawn, Come, autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and grey, SWEET FA'S THE EVE. TUNE-Craigie-burn-wood. ̧ SWEET fa's the eve on Craigie-burn, 'I see the flowers and spreading trees, But what a weary wight can please, Fain, fain would I my griefs impart, But secret love will break my heart, VOL. II. H 82 O LASSIE, ART THOU SLEEPING YET? If thou refuse to pity me, If thou shalt love anither, When yon green leaves fa' frae the tree, O LASSIE, ART THOU SLEEPING YET? O LASSIE, art thou sleeping yet? CHORUS. O, let me in this ae night, Thou hear'st the winter wind and weet, Tak pity on my weary feet, And shield me frae the rain, jo. O, let me in, &c. The bitter blast that round me blaws, O, let me in, &c. HER ANSWER. To the same Tune. O, TELLNA me o' wind and rain, CHORUS. I tell you now this ae night, The snellest blast, at mirkest hours, The sweetest flower that deck'd the mead, Let simple maid the lesson read, The bird that charm'd his summer-day, ADDRESS TO THE WOOD-LARK. TUNE-Where'll Bonnie Ann lie. O, STAY, Sweet warbling wood-lark, stay, Again, again that tender part, Say, was thy little mate unkind, Or GROVES O' SWEET MYRTLE. TUNE-Humours of Glen. THEIR groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon, [fume; Where bright-beaming summers exalt the perFar dearer to me yon lone glen o' green breckan, Wi' the burn stealing under the lang yellow broom. 'TWASNA HER BONNIE blue ee. 85 Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers, Where the blue-bell and gowan lurk lowly unseen: For there, lightly tripping amang the wild flowers, A listening the linnet, aft wanders my Jean. Tho' rich is the breeze in their gay sunny valleys, And cauld, Caledonia's blast on the wave; Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the proud palace, [slave! What are they? The haunt of the tyrant and The slave's spicy forests, and gold-bubbling fountains, The brave Caledonian views wi' disdain; He wanders as free as the winds of his mountains, Save love's willing fetters, the chains o' his Jean. "TWASNA HER BONNIE BLUE EE. TUNE-Laddie, lie near me. "TWASNA her bonnie blue ee was my ruin; Sair do I fear that to hope is denied me, |