How cruel are the parents Who riches only prize, And to the wealthy booby Poor Woman sacrifice! Meanwhile, the hapless Daughter Has buta choice of strife; To shun a tyrant Father's hate- Become a wretched Wife. The ravening hawk pursuing, The trembling dove thus flies, To shun impelling ruin, Awhile her pinions tries; Till, of
Chorus-I'll aye ca' in by yon town, And by yon garden-green again; I'll aye ca' in by yontown, And see my bonieJean again. There's nane sall ken, there's nanecan guess What brings me back the gateagain, Butshe, my fairest faithfu' lass, And stownlinswe sallmeet again. I'll aye ca' in, &c. She'll wander bythe aikentree, When
'Tis Friendship's pledge, my young, fair Friend, Nor thou the gift refuse, Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralising Muse. Since thou, in all thy youth and charms, Must bidthe world adieu, (A world 'gainst Peace in constant arms) To join the Friendly Few. Since, thy gay morn of life o'ercast, Chill came the tempest's
To Riddell, much lamented man, This ivied cot was dear; Wandr'er, dost value matchless worth? This ivied cot revere.
Thou of anindependent mind, With soul resolv'd, with soul resign'd; Prepar'd Power's proudest frown to brave, Who wilt not be, nor have a slave; Virtue alone who dost revere, Thy own reproach alone dost fear- Approach this shrine, and worship here.
There's Death in the cup, so beware! Nay, more-there is danger in touching; Butwho can avoid the fellsnare, The man and his wine's so bewitching!
Jockey's taenthe parting kiss, O'er the mountains he is gane, And with him is a'my bliss, Nought butgriefs with me remain, Spare my Love, ye winds that blaw, Plashy sleets and beating rain! Spare my Love, thou feath'ry snaw, Drifting o'er the frozen plain! When the shades of evening creep O'er the day's fair, gladsome
Will ye go to the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay, Will ye go to the Hielands wi'me? Will ye go to the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay, My pride and my darling to be.
Chorus-Mally's meek, Mally's sweet, Mally's modest and discreet; Mally's rare, Mally's fair, Mally's every way complete. As I was walking up the street, A barefitmaid I chanc'd to meet; ButO the road was very hard For that fair maiden's tender feet. Mally's meek, &c. It were mairmeet that those fine feet Were weellaced up in
Mark yonder pomp of costly fashion Round the wealthy, titled bride: But when compar'd with real passion, Poor is all that princely pride. Markyonder, &c. (four lines repeated). What are the showy treasures, What are the noisy pleasures? The gay, gaudy glare of vanity and art: The polish'd jewels' blaze May draw the wond'ring gaze;