Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/437
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I'll Gang Nae Mair to Yon Town.
I'll gang nae mair to yon town, Betide me joy, betide me pain;I've tint my heart in yon town, And dare nae gang the gate again.The sun shall cease to thowe the snaw, The corn to shoot wi' simmer rain,When I gang back to yon town, And see the gate my heart has gane.
Yestreen I went to yon town, Wi' heart in pleasure panting free,As stag won from the hunter's snare, Or birdie building on the tree;But ae half-hour tint all my peace, And laired my soul in dool and pain,And weary fa' the witchcraft wit That winna let it free again.
Had I but been by fortune's hand In the silk lap of grandeur thrown,And she had trimmed the humblest home That ever rose in Caledon;I'd clad her in a starry robe, And claspt her to my bosom fain;And blest the happy hour I went To see the mirthsome town again.
She's fairer than a summer morn, And purer than the spotless sky;Far is the journey to her heart, She measures in her haughty eye.But she is sweeter than the rose New bathed amang the balmy rain—And I maun gang to yon town, And see the lovesome maid again.
The Mariner's Song.
'Tis a time of pride when the bark is prancing, Like an Arab steed, o'er the waste of waves,When her path behind in light is glancing, And the fire-white foam her bowsprit laves;
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