. The national Burns, including the airs of all the songs in the staff and tonic sol-fa notations. Thou s aye the dearer and dearer to me !But I 11 big a bower on yon bonnie banks, Where Tay rins wimplin by sae clear;And I 11 eleed thee iu the tartan sae fine, And mak thee a man like thy daddie dear. IM OWRE YOUNG TO MARRY YET. Slowly. Im owre young to marry yet, E^gggE^P^pg^^i Cbobi s—Im owre young, Im owre young, Im owre young to mar - ry yet; ^S^ifc t=N= ijsq: £^^^^ be a sin To tak me fiae my mammy yet. !ovg—I am my mammys ae bairn, Wi un • co folk I wea ry, ir. And ly - iiig
. The national Burns, including the airs of all the songs in the staff and tonic sol-fa notations. Thou s aye the dearer and dearer to me !But I 11 big a bower on yon bonnie banks, Where Tay rins wimplin by sae clear;And I 11 eleed thee iu the tartan sae fine, And mak thee a man like thy daddie dear. IM OWRE YOUNG TO MARRY YET. Slowly. Im owre young to marry yet, E^gggE^P^pg^^i Cbobi s—Im owre young, Im owre young, Im owre young to mar - ry yet; ^S^ifc t=N= ijsq: £^^^^ be a sin To tak me fiae my mammy yet. !ovg—I am my mammys ae bairn, Wi un • co folk I wea ry, ir. And ly - iiig ill a atmnge lied, Im fleyd it inuk me et . rie, «ir. Hallowmass is come and gane,The nights are lang in winter, sir, And you an I in ae bed, In trowth, I dare na venture, owre young, &c. Fu loud anshrill the frosty windBlaws through the leafless thinner, sir: But if ye come this gate again,I 11 aulder be gin simmer, sir. Im owre young, &c. UP IN THE MORNING EARLY. Lively TUNE— Up in Hie Morning Early. Guild blaws Hie wind fiae east to west,The drift is driv - ing sail. mi m the blast, I in sure its win - tor fair- ly ?j-rj— £§=E^1^ =^ Chords—Up in the mornings no for me. Up in the morn • ing ear-ly; ;s=j mm^M =S=^gpI When a the hiUaarecoverd wi snaw, 1 m sure its win - ter fair • ly. Vol. II. The birds sit cluttering iu the thorn,A day they fore but sparely; And lang s the night frae een to Hiom-I m sure its winter fairly. Up in the morning s, £c. MY HOGGIE. Tvne— What will I do gin my Hoggie Die. What will I do gin nty Hoggie die? My joy. my pride, my Hog - giel
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Keywords: ., bookauthorburnsrob, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1800, bookyear1800