Part 125

My Nanie’s Awa

Tune—“There’ll never be peace till Jamie comes hame.”

Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays, And listens the lambkins that bleat o’er her braes; While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw, But to me it’s delightless—my Nanie’s awa.

The snawdrap and primrose our woodlands adorn, And violetes bathe in the weet o’ the morn; They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw, They mind me o’ Nanie—and Nanie’s awa.

Thou lav’rock that springs frae the dews of the lawn, The shepherd to warn o’ the grey-breaking dawn, And thou mellow mavis that hails the night-fa’, Give over for pity—my Nanie’s awa.

Come Autumn, sae pensive, in yellow and grey, And soothe me wi’ tidings o’ Nature’s decay: The dark, dreary Winter, and wild-driving snaw Alane can delight me—now Nanie’s awa.

The Tear-Drop

Wae is my heart, and the tear’s in my e’e; Lang, lang has Joy been a stranger to me: Forsaken and friendless, my burden I bear, And the sweet voice o’ Pity ne’er sounds in my ear.

Love thou hast pleasures, and deep hae I luv’d; Love, thou hast sorrows, and sair hae I pruv’d; But this bruised heart that now bleeds in my breast, I can feel, by its throbbings, will soon be at rest.

Oh, if I were—where happy I hae been— Down by yon stream, and yon bonie castle-green; For there he is wand’ring and musing on me, Wha wad soon dry the tear-drop that clings to my e’e.

For The Sake O’ Somebody

My heart is sair—I dare na tell, My heart is sair for Somebody; I could wake a winter night For the sake o’ Somebody. O-hon! for Somebody! O-hey! for Somebody! I could range the world around, For the sake o’ Somebody.

Ye Powers that smile on virtuous love, O, sweetly smile on Somebody! Frae ilka danger keep him free, And send me safe my Somebody! O-hon! for Somebody! O-hey! for Somebody! I wad do—what wad I not? For the sake o’ Somebody.

1795

A Man’s A Man For A’ That

Tune—“For a’ that.”

Is there for honest Poverty That hings his head, an’ a’ that; The coward slave—we pass him by, We dare be poor for a’ that! For a’ that, an’ a’ that. Our toils obscure an’ a’ that, The rank is but the guinea’s stamp, The Man’s the gowd for a’ that.

What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hoddin grey, an’ a that; Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine; A Man’s a Man for a’ that: For a’ that, and a’ that, Their tinsel show, an’ a’ that; The honest man, tho’ e’er sae poor, Is king o’ men for a’ that.

Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord, Wha struts, an’ stares, an’ a’ that; Tho’ hundreds worship at his word, He’s but a coof for a’ that: For a’ that, an’ a’ that, His ribband, star, an’ a’ that: The man o’ independent mind He looks an’ laughs at a’ that.

A prince can mak a belted knight, A marquis, duke, an’ a’ that; But an honest man’s abon his might, Gude faith, he maunna fa’ that! For a’ that, an’ a’ that, Their dignities an’ a’ that; The pith o’ sense, an’ pride o’ worth, Are higher rank than a’ that.

Then let us pray that come it may, (As come it will for a’ that,) That Sense and Worth, o’er a’ the earth, Shall bear the gree, an’ a’ that. For a’ that, an’ a’ that, It’s coming yet for a’ that, That Man to Man, the world o’er, Shall brothers be for a’ that.

Craigieburn Wood

Sweet fa’s the eve on Craigieburn, And blythe awakes the morrow; But a’ the pride o’ Spring’s return Can yield me nocht but sorrow.

I see the flowers and spreading trees, I hear the wild birds singing; But what a weary wight can please, And Care his bosom wringing!

Fain, fain would I my griefs impart, Yet dare na for your anger; But secret love will break my heart, If I conceal it langer.

If thou refuse to pity me, If thou shalt love another, When yon green leaves fade frae the tree, Around my grave they’ll wither.

Versicles of 1795

The Solemn League And Covenant