No More Learning

The day returns, my bosom burns,
The blissful day we twa did meet,
Tho' winter wild in tempest toil'd,
Ne'er summer-sun was half sae sweet.
Than a' the pride that loads the tide,
And crosses o'er the sultry line;
Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes,
Heaven gave me more--it made thee mine!

II.

While day and night can bring delight,
Or nature aught of pleasure give,
While joys above my mind can move,
For thee, and thee alone I live.
When that grim foe of life below,
Comes in between to make us part,
The iron hand that breaks our band,
It breaks my bliss--it breaks my heart.

* * * * *




LXX.

MY LOVE SHE'S BUT A LASSIE YET.

Tune--"_Lady Bandinscoth's Reel. _"

[These verses had their origin in an olden strain, equally lively and
less delicate: some of the old lines keep their place: the title is
old. Both words and all are in the Musical Museum. ]


I.

My love she's but a lassie yet,
My love she's but a lassie yet,
We'll let her stand a year or twa,
Shell no be half so saucy yet.
I rue the day I sought her, O;
I rue the day I sought her, O;
Wha gets her needs na say he's woo'd,
But he may say he's bought her, O!

II.

Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet;
Come, draw a drap o' the best o't yet;
Gae seek for pleasure where ye will,
But here I never miss'd it yet.
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;
We're a' dry wi' drinking o't;
The minister kiss'd the fiddler's wife,
An' could na preach for thinkin' o't.

* * * * *




LXXI.

JAMIE, COME TRY ME.

Tune--"_Jamy, come try me. _"

[Burns in these verses caught up the starting note of an old song, of
which little more than the starting words deserve to be remembered:
the word and air are in the Musical Museum. ]


CHORUS.

Jamie, come try me,
Jamie, come try me;
If thou would win my love,
Jamie, come try me.

I.

If thou should ask my love,
Could I deny thee?
If thou would win my love,
Jamie, come try me.

II.

If thou should kiss me, love,
Wha could espy thee?
If thou wad be my love,
Jamie, come try me.
Jamie, come try me,
Jamie, come try me;
If thou would win my love,
Jamie, come try me.

* * * * *




LXXII.

MY BONNIE MARY.