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And lovers all that are in care,
To their ladies they do repair

In fresh mornings before the day,
And are in mirth aye mair and mair,

Through gladness of this lusty May.
Of every moneth in the year
To mirthful May there is no peer,

Her glittering garments are so gay :
You lovers all, make merry cheer,

Through gladness of this lusty May.

0

I'LL NEVER LOVE THEE MORE.

MARQUIS OF MONTROSE, born 1612, died May 21, 1650.

My dear and only love, I pray

That little world of thee
Be govern’d by no other sway

But purest monarchy;
For if confusion have a part,

Which virtuous souls abhor,
I'll call a synod in my heart,

And never love thee more.

As Alexander I will reign,

And I will reign alone ;
My thoughts did evermore disdain

A rival on my throne.
He either fears his fate too much,

Or his deserts are small,
Who dares not put it to the touch

To gain or lose it all.
But I will reign and govern still,

And always give the law,
And have each subject at my will,

And all to stand in awe :
But ’gainst my batteries if I find

Thou storm or vex me sore,
As if thou set me as a blind,

I'll never love thee more.

And in the empire of thy heart,

Where I should solely be,
If others do pretend a part,

Or dare to share with me;
Or committees if thou erect,

Or go on such a score,
I'll smiling mock at thy neglect,

And never love thee more.

But if no faithless action stain

Thy love and constant word,
I'll make thee famous by my pen,

And glorious by my sword;
I'll serve thee in such noble ways

As ne'er was known before;
I'll deck and crown thy head with bays,

And love thee evermore,

WERE NA MY HEART LICHT, I WAD DEE.

From the “ Orpheus

LADY GRIZZEL BAILLIE, born 1665, died 1746.

Caledonius," 1725.

THERE was anes a may, and she loo’d na men ;
She biggit her bonnie bower doun i' yon glen ;
But now she cries dool and well-a-day !
Come doun the green gate, and come here away.

When bonnie young Jamie cam’ower the sea,
He said he saw naething sae lovely as me;
He hecht me baith rings an' mony braw things ;
And were na my heart licht, I wad dee.

He had a wee titty that lo’ed na me,
Because I was twice as bonny as she;
She raised such a pother 'twixt him and his mother,
That were na my heart licht, I wad dee.

The day it was set and the bridal to be;
The wife took a dwam and lay doun to dee;
She main’d and she grain’d out o' dolour and pain,
Till he vow'd he never wad see me again.

His kin was for ane of a high degree,
Said, What had he to do wi' the like o' me?
Albeit I was bonnie, I was na for Johnnie ;
And were na my heart licht, I wad dee.

They said I had neither cow nor calf,
Nor dribbles o’ drink rins through the draff,
Nor pickles o' meal rins through the mill-ee;
And were na my heart licht, I wad dee.

His titty she was baith wylie an’ slee,
She spied me as I cam ower the lea;
An' then she ran in an' made a loud din ;

ain

ye trow na me.

a

Believe your

ee, an'

His bonnet stood aye fou round on his brow,
His auld ane look'd aye as well as some's new;
But now he lets't wear ony gate it will hing,
And casts himself dowie upon the corn-bing.

And now he gaes daundrin' about the dykes,
And a' he dow do is to hund the tykes ;
The live-lang nicht he ne'er steeks his ee;
And were na my heart licht, I wad dee.

Were I young for thee, as I hae been,

I We should ha' been gallopin' down on yon green, And linkin' it on yon lily-white lea ; And wow! gin I were but young for thee!

SHE ROSE AND LET ME IN.

FRANCIS SEMPLE. From Watson's Collection, 1706.

The night her silent sable wore,

And gloomy were the skies ;
Of glittering stars appear'd no more

Than those in Nelly's eyes.
When to her father's door I came,

Where I had often been,
I begg'd my fair and lovely dame

To rise and let me in.

But she with accents all divine

Did my fond suit reprove;
And while she chid my rash design,

She but inflamed my love.
Her beauty oft had pleased before,

While her bright eyes did roll ;
But virtue had the very power

To charm my very soul.

Then who would cruelly deceive,

Or from such beauty part ?
I loved her so, I could not leave
The charmer of

my

heart. My eager fondness I obey'd,

Resolved she should be mine, Till Hymen to my arms convey'd

My treasure so divine.

Now, happy in my Nelly's love,

Transporting is my joy ;
No greater blessing can I prove,

So blest a man am I:
For beauty may a while retain

The conquer'd fluttering heart;
But virtue only is the chain

Holds never to depart.

OLD LONG SYNE.

The following song is interesting as the earliest known verses to the air of “ Auld lang syne.” They appeared in Watson's collection of Scots Poems, 1716. They are certainly not equal to the verses preserved by Burns, which appear among the Convivial Songs in this volume.

PART FIRST.

SHOULD old acquaintance be forgot,

And never thought upon,
The flames of love extinguish'd,

And freely past and gone ?
Is thy kind heart now grown so cold

In that loving breast of thine,
That thou canst never once reflect

On old long syne ?
Where are thy protestations,

Thy vows and oaths, my dear,
Thou mad'st to me and I to thee

In register yet clear ?
Is faith and truth so violate

To th’immortal gods divine,
That thou canst never once reflect

On old long syne ?
Is't Cupid's fears, or frosty cares,

That makes thy spirits decay ?
Or is't some object of more worth

That's stolen thy heart away?
Or some desert makes thee neglect

Him so much once was thine,
That thou canst never once reflect

On old long syne ?
Is't worldly cares so desperate

That makes thee to despair ?
Is't that makes thee exasperate,

And makes thee to forbear ?
If thou of that were free as I,

Thou surely should be mine;
If this were true, we should renew

Kind old long syne.

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