Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/290

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THE SONGS OF BURNS.

O, WAT YE WHA'S IN YON TOWN?

TUNE—'THE BONIE LASS IN YON TOWN.'

O, wat ye wha's in yon town,Ye see the e'enin sun upon?The fairest dame's in yon town,That e'enin sun is shining on.
Now haply down yon gay green shaw,She wanders by yon spreading tree:How blest, ye flow'rs that round her blaw,Ye catch the glances o' her e'e!
How blest, ye birds that round her sing,And welcome in the blooming year,And doubly welcome be the spring,The season to my Lucy dear!
The sun blinks blithe on yon town,And on yon bonie braes of Ayr;But my delight in yon town,And dearest bliss, is Lucy fair.
Without my love, not a' the charmsO' Paradise could yield me joy;But gie me Lucy in my arms,And welcome Lapland's dreary sky.
My cave wad be a lover's bower,Tho' raging winter rent the air;And she a lovely little flower,That I wad tent and shelter there.
O sweet is she in yon town,Yon sinkin sun's gane down upon;A fairer than's in yon town,His setting beam ne'er shone upon.
If angry fate is sworn my foe,And suffering I am doom'd to bear;I careless quit all else below,But spare me, spare me Lucy dear.
For while life's dearest blood is warm,Ae thought frae her shall ne'er depart,And she—as fairest in her form,She has the truest, kindest heart.

THE HIGHLAND LASSIE.

TUNE—'THE DEUKS DANG O'ER MY DADDY.'

Nae gentle dames, tho' e'er sae fair,Shall ever be my Muse's care;Their titles a' are empty show;Gie me my Highland lassie, O.
CHORUS.Within the glen sae bushy, O,Aboon the plain sae rushy, O,I set me down wi' right good will,To sing my Highland lassie, O.
Oh, were yon hills and valleys mine,Yon palace and yon gardens fine!The world then the love should knowI bear my Highland lassie, O.Within the glen, &c.
But fickle fortune frowns on me,And I maun cross the raging sea;But while my crimson currents flowI'll love my Highland lassie, O.Within the glen, &c.
Altho' thro' foreign climes I range,I know her heart will never change,For her bosom burns with honour's glow,My faithful Highland lassie, O.Within the glen, &c.
For her I'll dare the billow's roar,For her I'll trace a distant shore,That Indian wealth may lustre throwAround my Highland lassie, O.Within the glen, &c.
She has my heart, she has my hand,By sacred truth and honour's band!Till the mortal stroke shall lay me low,I'm thine, my Highland lassie, O.
Fareweel the glen sae bushy, O!Fareweel the plain sae rushy, O!To other lands I now must go,To sing my Highland lassie, O!
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