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Amang arms auld banks bear birds bloom blue body bonnie bonnie lass bosom braes braw breast charms CHORUS comes dear dearie fair Farewell fell flower frae glen green grows guid hame hand happy hast head heart Here's Highland hills hope hour I'll ilka Jamie John kind King kiss laddie lass lassie leave light live lo'e look lord lover mair Mary maun meet monie morning ne'er never night o'er owre peace pleasure poor pride rose round seen sing spring stream sweet tear tell thee thing thou thought thyme true TUNE TUNE_ wander weary weel wife wild Willie wind winter woods young
Page 61 - 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...
Page 91 - O, WERT thou in the cauld blast, On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee. Or did misfortune's bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a', to share it a'.
Page 140 - CHORUS. For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. We twa hae run about the braes, And pu'd the gowans fine ; But we've wander'd mony a weary foot Sin auld lang syne.
Page 171 - Yestreen, when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha', To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard nor saw: Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, And yon the toast of a' the town, I sigh'd, and said amang them a', 'Ye are na Mary Morison.
Page 97 - Go fetch to me a pint o' wine, And fill it in a silver tassie; That I may drink before I go A service to my bonnie lassie The boat rocks at the pier o...
Page 97 - MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS. Y heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here ; My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer ; Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, My heart's in the Highlands wherever I go.
Page 230 - IT was a' for our rightfu' King We left fair Scotland's strand; It was a' for our rightfu' King We e'er saw Irish land, My dear — We e'er saw Irish land. Now a' is done that men can do, And a...
Page 66 - But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson, my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi