Part 15

Yae nicht aneath the mune's pure licht That bathed the moor in silvery sheen I spiered her gin her hert was mine; "It's yours for aye," quo' Bonnie Jean. The years rolled owre oor heids since then Hae mony joys an' sorrows gi'en, But still I share them, yin an' a', Wi' my leal-hearted Bonnie Jean.

REFRAIN.

BETTY O' THE STRANKLY.

Song.

I've been in London and Paree, I've seen the beauties owre the sea, But nane o' them could please ma e'e Like Betty o' the Strankly.

REFRAIN.

O' a' the lassies I hae seen, This I'll say fu' frankly, There ne'er was yin amang them a' Like Betty o' the Strankly.

O' Nature's charms she has full share, Besides her virtues are so rare That she wi' angels micht compare, Blithe Betty o' the Strankly.

REFRAIN.

Oh! gin I were a worthy swain I'd strive an' work an' siller hain Tae win her hert and mak' a hame For Betty o' the Strankly.

REFRAIN.

Tae comfort her owre life's short span, O, may she wed a leal guidman; For kindly hert an' open han' Has Betty o' the Strankly.

REFRAIN.

Strancleugh.

Paris.

LASS O' GLENDOWERAN.

Glendoweran sits upon a hill, Sae bonnie, all alone; Ye'll find it gin ye tak' a walk Sooth-wast frae Crawfordjohn. An' when ye get upon the hill Amang the sheep an' kye, Jist ca' upon the farmer's folk, Ye maunna pass them by.

Ye'll see a bonnie lassie there, I daurna tell her name; For look an' airt she'd envied be By mony a titled dame. Her music fills the hoose wi' soun' Sae pleasin' tae the ear, It touches baith the hert an' min', An' waukens mem'ries dear.

The lad that wins this lassie's hert Will happy be, I'm shair; Wi' love an' soul-inspiring airt, What could he wish for mair? Then may their lives like pleasant dreams Sae smoothly pass away, Till frae the hill they hae tae gang When life has closed its day.

SAE WULL WE YET.

New Version.

Come, cheer up, my comrades, an' never say die, There's nae cloud in the lift the wun canna blaw by; 'Neath the sway of a despot we never did sit, We've aye held tae Freedom, an' sae wull we yet.

A Tiger came forth an' Europe was his prey, For mony a year his cubs have drunk success to "the Day;" But the day will come roun', an' the biter will be bit, For we've aye laid the tyrant low, an' sae wull we yet.

Here's a health tae oor lads on the land an' the sea, An' may a' guid attend them whaure'er they may be! In the days that are gane they hae nobly dune their bit, In purpose they are still as strong, an' sae wull they yet.

Why should we sorrow for the brave that are no more? They fought for right an' justice, an' they've reached a fairer shore, Where we'll see them yince again when we prove oorsels as fit, We've trusted aye in Providence, an' sae wull we yet.

Wi' oor leal-herted Allies, then, hand in hand we'll go Till we've silenced all his mighty guns an' vanquished the foe; Then peace frae oor country may ne'er hae tae flit, We've aye believed that this would come, an' sae wull we yet.

THE BONNIE AULD DORIC O' SCOTLAND.

Tune, "Kail Brose o' Auld Scotland."