The Powers aboon will tent thee;
Misfortune sha' na steer thee;
Thou'rt like themselves sae lovely
That ill they'll ne'er let near thee.
Return again, Fair Lesley,
Return to Caledonie !

That we may brag we hae a lass

There's nane again sae bonnie.
R. Burns

CXC

O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June:
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I :

And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry :

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,

While the sands o' life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only Luve!
And fare thee weel awhile;
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.

R. Burns

CXCI

HIGHLAND MARY

Ye banks and braes and streams around

The castle o' Montgomery,

Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie !

N

BCCK

There summer irst infauid her ropes,

tere te angest arry;

Tere

Ok me ast areweei

2 my sweet giami Mary.

How sweeny 21oom : the gay green ark,
low * me aw.run scissem,
As nerveau der ragrant shade

Caspa ter o my uUSEM.

The Loiden tours on anger wings
Cow 2 A ne und my deare;

Fer dear one as

Was in sweer

gnami Mary.

W: mony I vow and lock'i embrace

Our Parting vas u tender:

And piediging it to meet again,

We core curseis isunder:

But, Ch feil Death's andmely frost,
That nipt my lower se aariv !
Now green's ne sod, and cauid's the clay,
That wraps my Highland Mary !

O pale, pale now, those rosy lips,
Iaft hae kissi sae fondly;
And closed for aye the sparkling glance
That dwelt on ne sae kindly:
And mouldering now in silent just
That heart that lo'ed me dearly!

But still within my besom's core
Shall live my Highland Mary.

R. Burns

CXCII

AULD ROBIN GRAY

When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame,

And a' the world to rest are gane,

The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e,
While my gudeman lies sound by me.

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his

bride;

But saving a croun he had naething else beside :

To make the croun a pund, young Jamie gaed to sea; And the croun and the pund were baith for me.

He hadna been awa' a week but only twa,

When my father brak his arm, and the cow was

stown awa;

My mother she fell sick, and my Jamie at the seaAnd auld Robin Gray came a-courtin' me.

My father couldna work, and my mother couldna spin ; I toil'd day and night, but their bread I couldna win ; Auld Rob maintain'd them baith, and wi' tears in his e'e

Said, Jennie, for their sakes, O, marry me !

My heart it said nay; I look'd for Jamie back;
But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a

wrack;

His ship it was a wrack-why didna Jamie dee?
Or why do I live to cry, Wae's me?

My father urgit sair: my mother didna speak ;

But she look'd in my face till my heart was like to break :

They gi'ed him my hand, but my heart was at the sea ;
Sae auld Robin Gray he was gudeman to me.

I hadna been a wife a week but only four,
When mournfu' as I sat on the stane at the door,
I saw my Jamie's wraith, for I couldna think it he
Till he said, I'm come hame to marry thee.

O sair, sair did we greet, and muckle did we say ;
We took but ae kiss, and I bad him gang away;
I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to dee;
And why was I born to say, Wae's me!

I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin;
I daurna think on Jamie, for that wad be a sin;
But I'll do my best a gude wife aye to be,
For auld Robin Gray he is kind unto me.

Lady A. Lindsay

Waggie mest har tea ti night, eki isa che and ane) skögü, wein stud begi;

Toby Toby The wooing ah

Punes feet i, and Duncan pray'd; Wog was en is Arisa Chug: Punout sagit i mitt qut unit,

Cac tos con bith beer and blin",

Spuk 2 Cwput ower & ind:

Pine and chance are but a ride,

Sighood loves sair to bide :
Shall & Thea vel, quech t,
Wot & hadghow hizzie dee?
She mar gae Face for me?

How it comes let doctors tell,
Mog grew sick as he grew well;
Something in her bosom wrings,
For reber a sigh she búngs!
And O, bet cen, they spak sic things!

Puncan was a lad o grace :
Maggie's was a piteous case:
Duncan couldna be her death,
Swelling pity smoor'd his wrath;
Now they're crouse and canty baith:
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!

R. Burns

CXCIV

THE SAILOR'S WIFE

And are ye sure the news is true?
And are ye sure he's weel?
Is this the time to think o' wark?
Ye jades, lay by your wheel;
Is this the time to spin a thread,
When Colin's at the door?

Reach down my cloak, I'll to the quay,
And see him come ashore.

For there's nae luck about the house,
There's nae luck at a';

There's little pleasure in the house
When our gudeman's awa'.

And gie to me my bigonet,

My bishop's satin gown;

For I maun tell the baillie's wife
That Colin's in the town.
My Turkey slippers maun gae on,
My stockins pearly blue;
It's a' to pleasure our gudeman,
For he's baith leal and true.

Rise, lass, and mak a clean fireside,
Put on the muckle pot;

Gie little Kate her button gown

And Jock his Sunday coat;

And mak their shoon as black as slaes,

Their hose as white as snaw;

It's a' to please my ain gudeman,

For he's been long awa.

There's twa fat hens upo' the coop
Been fed this month and mair;
Mak haste and thraw their necks about,
That Colin weel may fare;

And spread the table neat and clean,

Gar ilka thing look braw,

For wha can tell how Colin fared

When he was far awa?