Page:The poetical works of Robert Burns.djvu/362

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THE SONGS OF BURNS.

THE FÊTE CHAMPETRE.

TUNE—'KILLIECRANKIE.'

O wha will to Saint Stephen's house,To do our errands there, man?O wha will to Saint Stephen's house,O' th' merry lads of Ayr, man?Or we will send a man-o'-law?Or will we send a sodger?Or him wha led o'er Scotland a'The meikle Ursa-Major?
Come, will ye court a noble lord,Or buy a score o' lairds, man?For worth and honour pawn their word,Their vote shall be Glencaird's, man?Ane gies them coin, ane gies them wine,Anither gies them clatter;Anbank, wha guess'd the ladies' taste,He gies a Fête Champetre.
When Love and Beauty heard the news,The gay green-woods amang, man;Where gathering flowers and busking bowers,They heard the blackbird's sang, man;A vow, they seal'd it with a kissSir Politics to fetter,As their's alone, the patent-bliss,To hold a Fête Champetre.
Then mounted Mirth, on gleesome wing,O'er hill and dale she flew, man;Ilk wimpling burn, ilk crystal spring,Ilk glen and shaw she knew, man:

NITHSDALE'S WELCOME HAME.

The noble Maxwells and their powersAre coming o'er the border,And they'll gae bigg Terreagle's towers,An' set them a' in order,And they declare Terreagle's fair,For their abode they choose it;There's no a heart in a' the land,But's lighter at the news o't.Tho' stars in skies may disappear,And angry tempests gather;The happy hour may soon be nearThat brings us pleasant weather:The weary night o' care and griefMay hae a joyful morrow;So dawning day has brought relief—Fareweel our night o' sorrow!
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