Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/347

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THE SONGS OF BURNS.
277
I see the spreading leaves and flowers, I hear the wild birds singing;But pleasure they hae nane for me,While care my heart is wringing.Beyond thee, &c.
I canna tell, I maun na tell,I dare na for your anger;But secret love will break my heartIf I conceal it langer.Beyond thee, &c.
I see thee gracefu', straight and tall,I see thee sweet and bonie,If thou refuse thy Johnie!But oh, what will my torments be,Beyond thee, &c.
To see thee in anither's arms,In love to lie and languish,'Twad be my dead, that will be seen,My heart wad burst wi' anguish.Beyond thee, &c.
But Jeanie, say thou wilt be mine,Say, thou lo'es nane before me;An' a' my days o' life to come,I'll gratefully adore thee.Beyond thee, &c.

LADY ONLIE.

TUNE—'RUFFIAN'S RANT.'

A' the lads o' Thornie-bank,When they gae to the shore o' Bucky,They'll step in an' tak' a pintWi' Lady Onlie, honest Lucky!Ladie Onlie, honest Lucky,Brews good ale at shore o' Bucky;I wish her sale for her gude ale,The best on a' the shore o' Bucky.
Her house sae bien, her curch sae clean,I wat she is a dainty chucky;And cheerlie blinks the ingle-gleedOf Lady Onlie, honest Lucky!Lady Onlie, honest Lucky,Brews gude ale at shore o' Bucky;I wish her sale for her gude ale,The best on a' the shore o' Bucky.

OUR THRISSLES FLOURISHED FRESH AND FAIR.

TUNE—'AWA WHIGS, AWA.'

CHORUS.Awa Whigs, awa!Awa Whigs, awa!Ye're but a pack o' traitor louns,Ye'll do nae good at a'.
Our thrissles flourish'd fresh and fair,And bonie bloom'd our roses;But Whigs came like a frost in June,And wither'd a' our posies.
Our ancient crown's fa'n in the dust—Deil blin' them wi' the stoure o't;And write their names in his black beuk,Wha gae the Whigs the power o't.
Our sad decay in Church and StateSurpasses my descriving;The Whigs came o'er us for a curse,And we hae done wi' thriving.
Grim vengeance lang has ta'en a nap,But we may see him wauken;Gude help the day when royal headsAre hunted like a maukin.
Awa Whigs, awa!Awa Whigs, awaYe're but a pack o' traitor louns,Ye'll do nae gude at a'.
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