Hame, hame, hame! Hame fain wad I be! [This song is noticed in the introduction of "The Fortunes of Nigel," and part of it is sung by Richie Moniplies. It is supposed to come from the lips of a Scottish Jacobite Exile. From Cromek's Nithsdale and Galloway Song, 1810.] PHEMIE IRVIN G. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. Gay is thy glen, Corrie, With all thy groves flowering; When July is showering; Her round neck is whiter Than winter when snowing; Her meek voice is milder Than Ae in its flowing; The proud and the wealthy O were I yon violet, On which she is walking! O were I yon small bird, To which she is talking! Or yon rose in her hand, With its ripe ruddy blossom! Or some pure gentle thought, To be blest with her bosom ! THE SAILOR'S LADY. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. Come busk you gallantlie, Maiden, busk and come, The foamy ocean's ours, From Hebride to Havannah, And thou shalt be my queen, And reign upon it Anna. See my bonnie ship, So stately and so steady; Thou shalt be my queen, And she maun be my lady : The west wind in her wings, The deep sea all in motion, Away she glorious goes, And crowns me king of ocean. From Thames, and Tweed, and Shannon; The Bourbon flowers grow pale When I hang out my pennon; With all my broad sails set, Come with me and see The golden islands glowing, Come with me and hear The flocks of India lowing; Thy fire shall be of spice, The dews of eve drop manna, Thy chamber floor of gold, And men adore thee, Anna. THE RETURN OF SPRING. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. Cauld winter is awa', my love, The blackbird is a pawky loon, The gowdspink woos in gentle note, Come here, come here, my spousal dame ! A theme which pleaseth me. What says the songster rose-linnet? His breast is beating high, Come here, come here, my ruddie mate The way of love to try! The laverock calls his freckled mate, Frae near the sun's e'e-bree, Make on the knowe, our nest, my love!- The hares ha'e brought forth twins, my love, Sae has the cushat doo; The raven croaks a softer way, His sooty love to woo : And nought but love, love breathes around Frae hedge, frae field, and tree, O lassie is thy heart mair hard MY AIN COUNTRIE. ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. The sun rises bright in France, And fair sets he; But he has tint the blythe blink he had O! gladness comes to many, But sorrow comes to me, As I look o'er the wide ocean |