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OF A' THE AIRTS THE WIND CAN

BLAW.
TUNE- Miss Admiral Gordon's Strathspey
Or a' the airts the wind can blaw,

I dearly like the west,
For there the bonnie lassie lives,

The lassie I loe best :
There wild woods grow, and rivers row,

And mony a hill between ;
But day and night my fancy's flight

Is ever wi' my Jean.
I see her in the dewy. flowers,

I see her sweet and fair:
I hear her in the tunefu' birds,

I hear her charm the air ;
There's not a bonnie flower that springs

By fountain, shaw, or green,
There's not a bonnie bird that sings,

But minds me o' my Jean.
Oh blaw ye westlin winds, blaw saft

Amang the leafy trees,
Wi' balmy gale, frae hill and dale

Bring hame the laden bees;
And bring the lassie back to me

That's aye sae neat and clean ;
Ae smile o' her wad banish care,

Sae charming is my Jean.
What sighs and vows amang the knowes

Hae passed atween us twa !
How fond to meet, how wae to part,

That night she gaed awa!

The powers aboon can only ken,

To whom the heart is seen,
That nane can be sae dear to me

As my sweet lovely Jean!

OH AYE MY WIFE SHE DANG ME.

TUNE-My Wife she dang me.
On aye my wife she dang me,

And aft my wife did bang me,
If ye gie a woman a' her will,

Guid faith, she'll soon o'ergang ye.
On peace and rest my mind was bent,

And fool I was I married ;
But never honest man's intent

As cursedly miscarried.
Some sa'r o' comfort still at last,

When a' my days are done, man;
My pains o’ hell on earth are past,

I'm sure o' bliss aboon, man.
Oh aye my wife she dang me,

And aft my wife did bang me,
If ye gie a woman a' her will,

Good faith, sheʼn soon o'ergang ye.

OH BONNIE WAS YON ROSY BRIER. Oh bonnie was yon rosy brier,

That blooms sae far frae haunt o man And bor.nie she, and ah ! how dear!

It shaded frae the e'enin' sun.

Yon rosebuds in the morning dew,

How pure amang the leaves sae green ; But purer was the lover's vow

They witnessed in their shade yestreen. All in its rude and prickly bower,

That crimson rose, how sweet and fair ;
But love is far a sweeter flower

Amid life's thorny path o' care.
The pathless wild and wimpling burn,

Wi' Chloris in my arms, be mine ;
And I the world, nor wish, nor scorn,

Its joys and griefs alike resign.

OH, FOR ANE-AND-TWENTY, TAM.

TUNE-The Moudiewort.

CHORUS.

And oh, for ane-and-twenty, Tam,

And hey, sweet ane-and-twenty, Tam, I'll learn my kin a rattlin' sang,

An' I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam. They snool me sair, and haud me down,

And gar me look like bluntie, Tam ! But three short years will soon wheel roun'

And then comes ane-and-twenty, Tam. A glieb o' lan', a claut o' gear,

Was left me by my auntie, Tam ; At kith or kin need na spier,

An' I saw ane-and-twenty, Tam.

They'll hae me wed a wealthy coof,

Tho' I mysel' hae plenty, Tam. But hear'st thou, laddie-there's my loof

I'm thine at ane-and-twenty, Tam,

OH GIN MY LOVE WERE YON

RED ROSE.

AIR-Hughie Graham.
On, gin my love were yon red rose

That grows upon the castle wa';
And I mysel' a drap o' dew,

Into her bonnie breast to fa'!

Oh there, beyond expression blest,

I'd feast on beauty a' the night!
Seal'd on her silk-saft faulds to rest,

Till fley'd awa by Phoebus' light.
Oh, were my love yon silach fair,

Wi' purple blossoms to the spring,
And I, a bird to shelter there,

When wearied on my little wing-
How I wad mourn, when it was torn

By autumn wild, and winter rude !
But I wad sing on wanton wing,

When youthfu’ May its bloom renew'd. OH LASSIE, ART THOU SLEEPING

YET?
TUNE-Let me in this ae Night.
Ou lassie, art thou sleeping yet ?
Or art thou wakin', I would wit ?
For love has bound me hand and foot,
And I would fain be in, jo.

CHORUS.
Oh let me in this ae night,

This ae, ae, ae night;
For pity's sake this ae night,

Oh rise and let me in, jo !
Thou hear'st the winter wind and weet,
Nae star blinks thro' the driving sleet;
Tak pity on my weary feet,

And shield me frae the rain, jo.
The bitter blast that round me blaws
Unheeded howls, unheeded fa's;
The cauldness o'thy heart's the cause

Of a' my grief and pain, jo.

OH LAY THY LOOF IN MINE, LASS.

TUNE-Cordwainer's March.

Oa lay thy loof in mine, lass,
In mine, lass, in mine, lass;
And swear on thy white hand, lass,

That thou wilt be niy ain.

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