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Rest to the weary, to the hungry food,
And bid the vicar be my guest:
This village, unmolested yet
Come jovial pipe, and bring along
Britons, if undone, can go,
s A N a.
PEGGY. W HEN first my dear laddie gade to the green
hill, And I at ew-milking first sey'd my young skill, To bear the milk bowie nae pain was to me, When I at the bughting forgather'd wi' thee.
PATIE. When corn rigs wav'd yellow, and blue hether bells Bloom'd bonny on muirland and sweet rising fells, Nae birns, briers, or breckens gae trouble to me, If I found the berries right ripen'd for thee.
PEGGY. When thou ran, or wrestled, or pulted the stane, And came aff the victor, my heart was ay fain; Thy ilka sport manly gave pleasure to me; For nane can putt, wrestle, or run swift as thee.
N He starts as fresh as roses blawn,
After his bleeting flocks.
Like courtly weathercocks.
Unsully'd with a crime:
Contented spends his time.
SAN G. SPEAK on, speak thus, and still my grief,
Hold up a heart that's sinking under These fears, that soon will want relief,
When Pate must from his Peggy sunder, A gentler face and silk attire,
A lady rich in beauty's blossom, Alake, poor me! will now conspire,
To steal thee from thy Peggy's bosom. No more the shepherd who excell'd
The rest, whose wit made them to wonder, Shall now his Peggy's praises tell;
Ah! I can die, but never sunder. Ye meadows where we often stray'd,
Ye bauks where we were wont to wander; Sweet scented rucks round which we play'd,
You'll lose your sweets when we're asunder.
Again, ah! shall I never creep
Around the know with silent duty, Kindly to watch thee while asleep, .
And wonder at thy manly beauty? Hear, heav'n, while solemnly I vow,
Tho' thou shouldst prove a wandering lover, Thro' life to thee I shall prove true,
Nor be a wife to any other.
s A N G. W HEN hope was quite sunk in despair,
My heart it was going to break; My life appear'd worthless my care,
But now I will sav't for thy sake. Where'er my love travels by day,
Wherever he lodges by night, Wi' me his dear image shall stay,
And iny soul keep him ever in sight. Wi' patience I'll wait the lang year,
And study the gentlest charms; Hope time away till thou appear,
To lock thee for ay in these arms. Whilst thou wast a shepherd, I priz'd
No higher degree in this life; But now I'll endeavour to rise
To a height that's becoming thy wife. For beauty that's only skin deep,
Must fade like the gowans in May,
For ever, without a decay.
Can quench the fair fire of love,
And the husband ha's sense to approve.