. Poems and songs . safely may he sleep,Sweetly blythe his waukening be ! He will think on her he loves,Fondly he 11 repeat her name ; for whereer he distant roves,Jockeys heart is still at hame. r85 CHLORIS. Tune—My lodging is on the cold ground. My Chloris, mark how green the groves, The primrose banks how fair :The balmy gales awake the flowers, And wave thy flaxen hair. The lavrock shuns the palace gay, And oer the cottage sings :For nature smiles as sweet, I ween, To shepherds as to kings. Let minstrels sweep the skilfu string In lordly lighted ha :The shepherd stops his simple reed, Blit
. Poems and songs . safely may he sleep,Sweetly blythe his waukening be ! He will think on her he loves,Fondly he 11 repeat her name ; for whereer he distant roves,Jockeys heart is still at hame. r85 CHLORIS. Tune—My lodging is on the cold ground. My Chloris, mark how green the groves, The primrose banks how fair :The balmy gales awake the flowers, And wave thy flaxen hair. The lavrock shuns the palace gay, And oer the cottage sings :For nature smiles as sweet, I ween, To shepherds as to kings. Let minstrels sweep the skilfu string In lordly lighted ha :The shepherd stops his simple reed, Blithe, in the birken shaw. The princely revel may survey Our rustic dance wi scorn ;But are their hearts as light as ours Beneath the milk-white thorn 1 The shepherd, in the flowery glen,In shepherds phrase will woo ; The courtier tells a finer tale,But is his heart as true 1 These wild-wood flowers Fve pud, to deck That spotless breast o thine :The courtiers gems may Avitness love — But tis na love like mine. B B. HIGHLAND MARY. Ye banks, and braes, and streams around Hie castle o Montgomery,Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, V our waters never drumlie ! HIGHLAND MARY. There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry ;For there I took the last fareweel O my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloomd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorns blossom,As underneath their fragrant shade I claspd her to my bosom !The golden hours, on angel wings, Flew oer me and my dearie ;For dear to me, as light and life, Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi mony a vow, and lockd embrace, Our parting was fu tender ;And, pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder;But oh ! fell deaths untimely frost, That nipt my flower sae early !—Now greens the sod, and cauld s the clay, That wraps my Highland Mary. O pale, pale now, those rosy lips I aft hae kissd sae fondly !And closed for aye the sparkling glance, That dwelt on me sae kindly !And mouldering now in silent dust, Tha
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Keywords: ., bookauthorburnsrob, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1850, bookyear1858
