Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/326

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THE SONGS OF BURNS.

THE SOGER'S RETURN.

TUNE—'THE MILL MILL O.'

When wild war's deadly blast was blawn,And gentle peace returning,Wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless,And mony a widow mourning:I left the lines and tented field,Where lang I'd been a lodger,My humble knapsack a' my wealth,A poor and honest soger.
A leal, light heart was in my breast,My hand unstain'd wi' plunder;And for fair Scotia, hame againI cheery on did wander.I thought upon the banks o' Coil,I thought upon my Nancy,I thought upon the witching smileThat caught my youthful fancy.
At length I reached the bonie glen,Where early life I sported;I pass'd the mill, and trysting thorn,Where Nancy aft I courted:Wha spied I but my ain dear maid,Down by her mother's dwelling!And turn'd me round to hide the floodThat in my een was swelling.
Wi' alter'd voice, quoth I, Sweet lass,Sweet as yon hawthorn blossom,O! happy, happy may he be,That's dearest to thy bosom!My purse is light, I've far to gang,And fain wad be thy lodger;I've serv'd my King and Country lang—Take pity on a soger!
Sae wistfully she gaz'd on me,And lovelier was than ever:Quo' she, a soger ance I lo'ed,Forget him shall I never:Our humble cot, and hamely fare,Ye freely shall partake it,That gallant badge, the dear cockade,Ye're welcome for the sake o't.
She gaz'd—she redden'd like a rose—Syne pale like onie lily;She sank within my arms, and cried,Art thou my ain dear Willie?By Him who made yon sun and sky,By whom true love's regarded,I am the man; and thus may stillTrue lovers be rewarded!
The wars are o'er, and I'm come hame,And find thee still true-hearted;Tho' poor in gear, we're rich in love,And mair we'se ne'er be parted.Quo' she, my grandsire left me gowd,A mailen plenish'd fairly;And come, my faithful soger lad,Thou'rt welcome to it dearly!
For gold the merchant ploughs the main,The farmer ploughs the manor;But glory is the soger's prize;The soger's wealth is honour:The brave poor soger ne'er despise,Nor count him as a stranger,Remember he's his Country's stayIn the day and hour o' danger.

BONIE LESLEY.

TUNE—'THE COLLIER'S BONIE DOCHTER.'

O saw ye bonie LesleyAs she gaed o'er the border?She's gane, like Alexander,To spread her conquests farther.
To see her is to love her,And love but her for ever;For Nature made her what she is,And ne'er made sic anither!
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