Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/312

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THE SONGS OF BURNS.

AND MAUN I STILL ON MENIE DOAT.

TUNE—'JOCKEY'S GREY BREEKS.'

Again rejoicing nature seesHer robe assume its vernal hues,Her leafy locks wave in the breeze,All freshly steep'd in morning dews.
CHORUS.And maun I still on Menie doat,And bear the scorn that's in her e'e?For it's jet, jet black, an' it's like a hawk,An' it winna let a body be!
In vain to me the cowslips blaw,In vain to me, the vi'lets spring;In vain to me, in glen or shaw,The mavis and the lintwhite sing.And maun I still, &c.
The merry ploughboy cheers his team,Wi' joy the tentie seedsman stalks,But life to me's a weary dream,A dream of ane that never wauks.And maun I still, &c.
The wanton coot the water skims,Amang the reeds the ducklings cry,The stately swan majestic swims,And every thing is blest but I.And maun I still, &c.
The sheep-herd steeks his faulding slap,And owre the moorlands whistles shill,Wi' wild, unequal, wand'ring stepI meet him on the dewy hill.And maun I still, &c.
And when the lark, 'tween light and dark,Blythe waukens by the daisy's side,And mounts and sings on flittering wings,A woe-worn ghaist I hameward glide.And maun I still, &c.
Come Winter, with thine angry howl,And raging bend the naked tree;Thy gloom will soothe my cheerless soul,When Nature all is sad like me!And maun I still on Menie doat,And bear the scorn that's in her e'e?For it's jet, jet black, an' it's like a hawk,An' it winna let a body be.

THE GALLANT WEAVER.

TUNE—'THE AULD WIFE AYONT THE FIRE.'

Where Cart rins rowin to the sea,By monie a flow'r and spreading tree,There lives a lad, the lad for me,He is a gallant weaver.
Oh I had wooers aught or nine,They gied me rings and ribbons fine;And I was fear'd my heart would tine,And I gied it to the weaver.
My daddie sign'd my tocher-band,To gie the lad that has the land;But to my heart I'll add my hand,And gie it to the weaver.
While birds rejoice in leafy bowers;While bees rejoice in opening flowers;While corn grows green in simmer showers,I'll love my gallant weaver.
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