She gaed by the stable where Jamie was stannin'; The gatherin' tears trickled fast frae his ee. She heard the craw sayin't high on the tree sittin', And robin was chirpin't the brown leaves amang. Oh, what is't that pits my puir heart in a flutter? Then what gars me wish ony better to be? Wi' the rest o' my claes I hae row'd up the ribbon, Though now he said naething but, Fare ye weel, Lucy! The lamb likes the gowan wi' dew when its droukit, MY AIN FIRESIDE. ELIZABETH HAMILTON, authoress of the "Cottagers of Glenburnie." I HAE seen great anes, and sat in great ha's At feasts made for princes wi' princes I've been, Whare the grand shine o' splendour has dazzled my een; As the bonnie blythe blink o' my ain fireside. Oh, cheery's the blink o' my ain fireside! My ain fireside, my ain fireside, Oh, there's nought to compare wi' ane's ain fireside! Ance mair, Gude be thanket, round my ain heartsome ingle Wi' the friends o' my youth I cordially mingle; Nae forms to compel me to seem wae or glad, I may laugh when I'm merry, and sigh when I'm sad. Nae falsehood to dread, and nae malice to fear, There's nane half so sure as ane's ain fireside. My ain fireside, my ain fireside, Oh, there's nought to compare wi' ane's ain fireside! When I draw in my stool on my cosey hearthstane, I hear but kend voices, kend faces I see, And mark saft affection glent fond frae ilk ee; Oh, there's nought to compare wi' ane's ain fireside! OUR AIN FIRESIDE. From Peter Buchan's manuscript collection of ancient Scottish songs. My country, o'er thy mountains wild Her ain fireside, my friends, Her ain fireside; May ne'er a tyrant's ruthless arm How cheery round the ingle-cheek Our ain fireside, my friends, Our ain fireside; I'm glad to see ye a' set round The poison'd shafts that malice throws While honest worth an' cheerfu' mirth Sit round the fireside, Our ain fireside, my friends, Our ain fireside; The warmest glow o' friendship's flame On human worth by length of purse The heart to share the world's care Aye heats the fireside. Our ain fireside, my friends, Our ain fireside; The sterling value o' the heart Aye gilds the fireside. Through rocks and sands to distant lands The sailor wanders wide, In hopes to shield his crazy eild By couthy fireside. The couthy fireside, my friends, The couthy fireside; Heaven send the lyart pow o' age "Tis Heaven that nerves the soldier's arm The battle's heat to bide; He boldly dares the fiercest foe To shield his fireside. His ain fireside, my friends, His country's fireside; Would ye but warm a coward's heart ?— Insult his fireside. Gi'e luxury her painted domes, Her palaces gi'e pride; But be my lot a snug warm cot And canty fireside. A canty fireside, my friends, Be aye my lot a snug warm cot When bairnies brattlin round our knees What joy heaves up a parent's heart To see his fireside! To see his fireside, my friends, His ain fireside; May Heaven protect the rising sprouts Misfortune dour, wi' cauldrife stour, A neighbour may betide; 'Twill edge a bit and lit him sit Just next the fireside. Our ain fireside, my friends, Our ain fireside; May ne'er a cauld nor hungry heart And, oh, may He whose powerful arm Wi' health and wealth and length o' days Our ain firesides, my friends, Our ain firesides; The choicest blessings Heaven bestows ACROSS the riggs we'll wander The new-mawn hay amang, And hear the blackbird in the wood, We'll gi'e it sang for sang, we will, For ilka heart is gay, As lads and lasses trip alang At making o' the hay! |