File:Poems and songs (1875) (14590864959).jpg

Identifier: gri_33125009789757 (find matches)
Title: Poems & songs
Year: 1875 (1870s)
Authors: Burns, Robert, 1759-1796 Herdman, Robert, 1829-1888 Paterson, Robert, fl. 1860-1899
Subjects:
Publisher: London : William P. Nimmo
Contributing Library: Getty Research Institute
Digitizing Sponsor: Getty Research Institute

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Text Appearing Before Image:
I will repair,To meet my faithfu Davie. When day, expiring in the west,The curtain draws o natures rest,I flee to his arms I loe best,And thats my ain dear Davie.Meet me on the warlock knowe, Bonnie Davie, dainty Davie,There Ill spend the day wi you,My ain dear dainty Davie. WILL YE GO TO THE INDIES, MY MARY 1 Tune—Ewe- bughts.TO MARY CAMPBELL. Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,And leave auld Scotias shore 1 Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,Across the Atlantics roar 1 0 sweet grows the lime and the orange,And the apple on the pine; But a the charms o the IndiesCan never equal thine. 1 hae sworn by the Heavens to my Mary, I hae sworn by the Heavens to be true ;And sae may the Heavens forget me,When I forget my vow ! O plight me your faith, my Mary,And plight me your lily-white hand; O plight me your faith, my Mary,Before I leave Scotias strand. We hae plighted our troth, my Mary, In mutual affection to join;And curst be the cause that shall part us ! The hour and the moment o time !
Text Appearing After Image:
SONGS BY ROBERT BURNS. I listend to a lovers sang, And thought on youthfu pleasures many;And aye the wild wood echoes rang— O dearly do I love thee, Annie. O happy be the woodbine bower, Nae nightly bogle make it eerie ;Nor ever sorrow stain the hour, The place and time I met my dearie!Her head upon my throbbing breast, She, sinking, said, Im thine for ever!While mony a kiss the seal imprest, The sacred vow,—we neer should sever. The haunt o springs the primrose brae, The simmer joys the flocks to follow;How cheery, thro her shortening day, Is autumn, in her weeds o yellow!But can they melt the glowing heart, Or chain the soul in speechless pleasure,Or thro each nerve the rapture dart, Like meeting her, our bosoms treasure 1 THERE WAS A LASS, AND SHE WAS FAIR. Tune—Bonnie yean. There was a lass, and she was fair,At kirk and market to be seen; When a the fairest maids were met,The fairest maid was bonnie Jean. And aye she wrought her mammies wark,And aye she sang sae merrilie; Th

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