Where Are The Joys I have Met?
Where are the joys I have met in the morning, That danc'd to the lark's early song? Where is the peace that awaited my wand'ring, At evening the wild-woods among? No more a winding the course of yonriver, And marking sweet flowerets so fair, Nomore I trace the light footsteps of Pleasure, ButSorrow and sad-sighing
Wandering Willie
Here awa, there awa, wandering Willie, Here awa, there awa, haudawahame; Come to my bosom, my ainonly dearie, Tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the same. Winter winds blew loud and cauldat our parting, Fears for my Willie brought tears in my e'e, Welcome nowhSimmer, and welcome, my Willie, The Simmerto Nature, my Willie
Thine Am I, My Faithful Fair
Thine am I, my faithful Fair, Thine, my lovely Nancy; Ev'ry pulse along my veins, Ev'ry roving fancy. To thy bosom lay my heart, There to throb and languish; Tho' despair had wrung its core, That would healits anguish. Take away those rosy lips, Rich with balmy treasure; Turn away thine eyes of love, Lest
The True Loyal Natives
Ye true "Loyal Natives" attend to my song In uproar and riot rejoice the night long; From Envy and Hatred your corps is exempt, Butwhere is your shield from the darts of Contempt!
The Soldier’s Return
When wild war's deadly blast was blawn, And gentle peace returning, Wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless, And mony a widow mourning; I left the lines and tented field, Where langI'd been a lodger, My humble knapsack a'my wealth, A poor and honest sodger. A leal, light heart was in my breast, My hand unstain'd
The Raptures Of Folly
Thou greybeard, old Wisdom! may boast of thy treasures; Give me with young Folly to live; I grant thee thy calm-blooded, time-settled pleasures, ButFolly has raptures to give.
Ca’ The Yowes To The Knowes
Chorus.-Ca'the yowes to the knowes, Ca' them where the heather grows, Ca' them where the burnierowes, My bonie Dearie. Hark the mavis' e'ening sang, Sounding Clouden's woods amang; Then a-faulding let us gang, My bonie Dearie. Ca' the yowes, &c. We'll gaedown byClouden side, Thro' the hazels, spreading wide, O'er the waves that sweetly glide,
The Last Time I Came O’er The Moor
The last time I came o'er the moor, And left Maria's dwelling, What throes, what tortures passing cure, Were in my bosom swelling: Condemn'd to see my rival's reign, While I in secret languish; To feel a fire in every vein, Yet dare not speak my anguish. Love's veriest wretch, despairing, I Fain, fain, my