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CLX.

YES, I WILL GO WITH THEE, MY LOVE

AIR“ O Nannie, wilt thou go with me."

Yes, I will go with thee, my love,

And leave all else without a sigh;
Thro' the wide world with thee I'll rove,

Nor feel one pang if thou art nigh.
No costly gems, nor courtly scenes,

Have now the smallest charms for me; My heart alone to pleasure leans,

And all its joys depend on thee.

When far away from natal shores,

And seas diviele me from each friend, One look from him my soul adores,

Will courage and fresh vigour lend. Tlie parching ray and wintry wind,

Even women's softness knows to scorn;

* This admirable and ingenious answer to the beautiful and favourite ng of “O Nannie wilt thou go with me,” is the composition of the complish ed Lady Charlotte Carnpbell.

True passion leaves all fears behind

And from the rose it plucks a thorn.

Then can you doubt my constant love?

Or can you think I'd fly thy arms? Ah! give me but the power to prove,

That these are vain, unjust alarms; For sure the flame, that gently fann'd,

At first beneath a summer's sky, Will with redoubl’d force expand,

When ruder winds approach it nigh.

The lonely cot in desert drear,

The russet gown and frugal board, Will greater pleasures far appear

Than all that luxuries here afford. The gay, the busy, glittering throng,

And baneful flattery, I'll resign; To courts and cities these belong

But not to truth and love like thine..

And when at last thy life is o'er,,

When sickness baffles all my care, When fairy hope can cheer no more,

Then, Cupid, hear thy votary's prayer :-My weeping eyes in pity close,

Ere they behold my lover's death : Ah! spare my tears, my helpless woes,

And join with his my parting breath!

CLXI.

THE JOYS OF A HAME.

Wherever I wander, be't foul or be't fair,

At kirk, or at market, or straying alane, I think o' my dearie, I think o' the weans,

How blythely they welcome a body aye hame.

There's naething could e'er gie sic joy to the heart

As a cheerfu' fireside, and a dear loving dame, Tho'poortith step in-she maun e'en hing her head, Nor dare to disturb the pure joys o'a hame.

When winter comes in wi' his sleet and his cauld,

And the ingle bright bleezes a bonnie bit flame, Sae cosie and snug, then we think wi' oursel's,

There's naething could tempt us to wander frae hame.

For goud, and for siller, they wander awa',

And sail the world round for honour, and fame, Be they rich, be they poor, there are nane o' them a',

But will sing and rejoice when wandering hame.

The summer may smile, and the winter may frown,
But summer and winter to me are the same,
Tho' dark be the day, the night dreary and lang,
I'm happy, and bless'd wi' the joys o' a hame,

What's honour and wealth, that we a' covet sae, And what is the worth o' a lang titled name, Gude send us contentment, what mair wad we hac It crowns a' our joys, maks a heaven o' hame.

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MARK'D YOU HER EYE OF HEAVENLY

BLUE.

Mark'd you her eye of heavenly blue,
Mark'd you her cheek of roseate hue ?
That eye in liquid circles moving ?
That cheek abash'd at man's approving?
The one love's arrows darting round,
The other blushing at the wound.

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Oh! weep not, sweet maid, tho' the bright tear of beauty,

To kindred emotion each feeling beguiles ; The softness of sorrow no magic can borrow,

To vie with the splendour of Beauty in Smiles.

Man roves through creation a wandering stranger,

A dupe to its follies, a slave to its toils;
But bright o'er the billows of doubt and of danger,

The rainbow of promise is Beauty in Smiles.

As the rays of the Sun o'er the bosom of Nature,

Renew every Row'r which the tempest despoils ; So joy’s faded blossom in man's aching bosoin,

Revives in the sunshine of Beauty in Smiles.

The crown of the hero, the star of the rover

The hope that inspires, and the spell that beguiles
The song of the Poet, the dream of the Lover,
The Infidel's leaven, is Beauty in Smiles.

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