. [A composite music volume containing different issues of Thomson's octavo] collection of the songs of Burns, Sir Walter Scott ...: united to the select melodies of Scotland, and of Ireland & Wales. 0 to see his tartan trews,Bonnet blue, and laigh heeld shoes,Philabeg ahoon his knee,Thats the lad that Ill gang wi\0 hon 6ic. This gallant youth of whom I sing,Nature formd to be a king, On his breast he wears a star, Youd take him for the god of hon &e. 0 to see this princely oneSeated on a royal throne]Disasters a would disappear,Then begins the jub lee hon &c . Vol: 2. 48 THOURT F
. [A composite music volume containing different issues of Thomson's octavo] collection of the songs of Burns, Sir Walter Scott ...: united to the select melodies of Scotland, and of Ireland & Wales. 0 to see his tartan trews,Bonnet blue, and laigh heeld shoes,Philabeg ahoon his knee,Thats the lad that Ill gang wi\0 hon 6ic. This gallant youth of whom I sing,Nature formd to be a king, On his breast he wears a star, Youd take him for the god of hon &e. 0 to see this princely oneSeated on a royal throne]Disasters a would disappear,Then begins the jub lee hon &c . Vol: 2. 48 THOURT FAR AWA FROM ME DONALD. The Sonp, Sym* & Aicnnipi written lor this work in ■ «u ...\A [#^f«fffvfi-~]rL-. j^j^i^ljTT] il J . rl as Vol: 2 I ffr-irUN 48 THOURT FAR AWA FRAE ME, DONALD. WRITTEN FOR THIS WORK IN 1829 BY CAPTAIN CHARLES GRAY, R. M. AIR—THOURT FAR AWA. 1 hourt far awa, far awa, Far awa frae me, Donald;Sair I rue the waefu day That parted me from thee, we met by Lochna-gair, When baith were fancy free, Donald—Life, with a its coming care, Seemd bright as mornings ee, Donald. Now sad to mes the gloaming hour, Sad the trysting tree, Donald;Loves sweet spell has lost its power, Since I lost sight of thee, betide the pennon gay, The gowd that tempted thee, Donald;Dames mair dink may cross thy way, But nane can love like me, Donald. How oft I dreamd of happy hame, When cheerd by love and thee, Donald,Yet my lips neer breathd the flame That sparkled in my ee, hast dreamd of scenes mair bright, Far ayont the sea, Donald;Thou art gone—and I the sleight Of luckless love maun dree, Donald. 4-9 THE LAST TIME
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