Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/274

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
216
THE SONGS OF BURNS.

THE BLISSFUL DAY.

TUNE—'SEVENTH OF NOVEMBER.'

The day returns, my bosom burns,The blissful day we twa did meet;Tho' winter wild in tempest toil'd,Ne'er summer-sun was half sae sweet.Than a' the pride that loads the tide,And crosses o'er the sultry line;Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes,Heaven gave me more, it made thee mine.
While day and night can bring delight,Or nature aught of pleasure give;While joys above my mind can move,For thee, and thee alone, I live!When that grim foe of life belowComes in between to make us part;The iron hand that breaks our band,It breaks my bliss—it breaks my heart.

THE HAPPY TRIO.

TUNE—'WILLIE BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT.'

O, Willie brew'd a peck o' maut,And Rob and Allan cam to pree;Three blither hearts, that lee-lang night,Ye wad na find in Christendie.
CHORUS.We are na fou, we're no that fou,But just a drappie in our ee;The cock may craw, the day may daw,And aye we'll taste the barley bree.
Here are we met, three merry boys,Three merry boys I trow are we;And monie a night we've merry been,And monie mae we hope to be!We are na fou, &c.
It is the moon, I ken her horn,That's blinkin in the lift sae hie;She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,But by my sooth she'll wait a wee!We are na fou, &c.
Wha first shall rise to gang awa,A cuckold, coward loun is he!Wha first beside his chair shall fa',He is the King amang us three!We are na fou, &c.

JOHN ANDERSON MY JO.

John Anderson my jo, John,When we were first acquent,Your locks were like the raven,Your bonie brow was brent;But now your brow is beld, John,Your locks are like the snaw;But blessings on your frosty pow,John Anderson my jo.
John Anderson my jo, John,We clamb the hill thegither;And monie a canty day, John,We've had wi' ane anither:Now we maun totter down, John,But hand in hand we'll go,And sleep thegither at the foot,John Anderson my jo.