Extracts from “Friendship”
WHAT virtue, or what mental grace,
But men unqualified and base
Will boast it their possession?
Profusion apes the noble part
Of liberality of heart,
And dulness, of discretion.
If every polished gem we find
Illuminating heart or mind,
Provoke to imitation;
No wonder friendship...
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to min’?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o’ lang syne?
CHORUS
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We ’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu’d the gowans fine;...
Here is one leaf reserved for me,
From all thy sweet memorials free;
And here my simple song might tell
The feelings thou must guess so well.
But could I thus, within thy mind,
One little vacant corner find,
Where no impression yet is seen,
Where no memorial yet has been,
O, it should be my sweetest care
To write my name...
THE Brilliant black eye
May in triumph let fly
All its darts without caring who feels ’em;
But the soft eye of blue,
Though it scatter wounds too,
Is much better pleased when it heals ’em!
Dear Fanny!
The black eye may say,
“Come and worship my ray;
By adoring, perhaps you may move me!”...
From the “Lay of the Last Minstrel,” Canto III.
AND said I that my limbs were old,
And said I that my blood was cold,
And that my kindly fire was fled,
And my poor withered heart was dead,
And that I might not sing of love?—
How could I, to the dearest theme
That ever warmed a minstrel’s dream,
So foul, so false a recreant...
From “The Contrivances”
GENTEEL in personage,
Conduct, and equipage,
Noble by heritage,
Generous and free:
Brave, not romantic;
Learned, not pedantic;
Frolic, not frantic;
This must he be.
Honor maintaining,
Meanness disdaining,
Still entertaining.
Engaging and new.
Neat, but not...
Green grow the rashes O,
Green grow the rashes O;
The sweetest hours that e’er I spend
Are spent amang the lasses O!
There ’s naught but care on ev’ry han’,
In every hour that passes O;
What signifies the life o’ man,
An ’t were na for the lasses O?
The warly race may riches chase,
An’ riches still may fly...
How delicious is the winning
Of a kiss at love’s beginning,
When two mutual hearts are sighing
For the knot there ’s no untying!
Yet remember, midst your wooing,
Love has bliss, but love has ruing;
Other smiles may make you fickle,
Tears for other charms may trickle.
Love he comes, Love he tarries,
Just as fate or...
Adapted
GIN a body meet a body
Comin’ through the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need a body cry?
Every lassie has her laddie,—
Ne’er a ane hae I;
Yet a’ the lads they smile at me
When comin’ through the rye.
Amang the train there is a swain
I dearly lo’e mysel’;
But whaur his hame,...
O Whistle, and I ’ll come to you, my lad,
O whistle, and I ’ll come to you, my lad,
Tho’ father and mither and a’ should gae mad,
O whistle, and I ’ll come to you, my lad.
But warily tent, when ye come to court me,
And come na unless the back-yett be a-jee;
Syne up the back stile, and let naebody see,
And come as ye were na comin’ to me...
