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I gaed a waefu gate yestreen |
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I hear the trumpet sounding |
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I'm lonesome since I cross'd the hill |
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In good King Charles's golden days |
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In ringlets curl'd thy tresses flow |
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In Scarlet Town, where I was born |
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In the merry month of May |
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I sow'd the seeds of love |
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Is there, for honest poverty |
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I tell thee, Dick, where I have been |
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It was a lover and his lass |
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It was a maid of my country |
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It was the frog in the well |
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I've a secret to tell thee, but hush ! not here |
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I've seen the smiling of Fortune beguiling |
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I wish I were where Helen lies |
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Jog on, jog on the foot-path way |
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John Anderson my jo, John |
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Joy upon thy bright cheek dances |
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Let Erin remember the days of old |
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Life and its follies are fading away |
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Loud roars the dreadful thunder |
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My daddy is a c inker'd carle |
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My heart is breaking, dear Tittie |
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My Lady's gown there's gares upon't |
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My lodging it is on the cold ground |
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My love built me a bonnie bower |
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My love she's but a lassie yet |
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My massa and my misses have both gone away |
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My sorrow, deep sorrow, incessant returning |
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Nay, tell me not, Dear, that the goblet drowns |
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Now, O now I needs must part |
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O banquet not in those shining bowers |
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Of all the girls that are so smart |
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Oh ! breathe not his name—let it sleep in the shade |
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Oh ! could we do with this world of ours |
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Oh ! dear ! what can the matter be ? . |
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Oh, where ! and Oh, where ! is your Highland laddie gone? |
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O hark ye, lads, and I will tell ye |
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O, lassie, I maun lo'e thee |
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0 Logie o' Buchan, O Logie, the Laird |
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