O For Ane An’ Twenty, Tam

     Chorus.—­An’ O for ane an’ twenty, Tam! 
     And hey, sweet ane an’ twenty, Tam! 
     I’ll learn my kin a rattlin’ sang,
     An’ I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam.

     They snool me sair, and haud me down,
     An’ gar me look like bluntie, Tam;
     But three short years will soon wheel roun’,
     An’ then comes ane an’ twenty, Tam. 
     An’ O for, &c.

     A glieb o’ lan’, a claut o’ gear,
     Was left me by my auntie, Tam;
     At kith or kin I need na spier,
     An I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam. 
     An’ O for, &c.

     They’ll hae me wed a wealthy coof,
     Tho’ I mysel’ hae plenty, Tam;
     But, hear’st thou laddie! there’s my loof,
     I’m thine at ane an’ twenty, Tam! 
     An’ O for, &c.

Thou Fair Eliza

     Turn again, thou fair Eliza! 
     Ae kind blink before we part;
     Rue on thy despairing lover,
     Can’st thou break his faithfu’ heart? 
     Turn again, thou fair Eliza! 
     If to love thy heart denies,
     Oh, in pity hide the sentence
     Under friendship’s kind disguise!

     Thee, sweet maid, hae I offended? 
     My offence is loving thee;
     Can’st thou wreck his peace for ever,
     Wha for thine would gladly die? 
     While the life beats in my bosom,
     Thou shalt mix in ilka throe: 
     Turn again, thou lovely maiden,
     Ae sweet smile on me bestow.

     Not the bee upon the blossom,
     In the pride o’ sinny noon;
     Not the little sporting fairy,
     All beneath the simmer moon;
     Not the Minstrel in the moment
     Fancy lightens in his e’e,
     Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture,
     That thy presence gies to me.

My Bonie Bell

     The smiling Spring comes in rejoicing,
     And surly Winter grimly flies;
     Now crystal clear are the falling waters,
     And bonie blue are the sunny skies. 
     Fresh o’er the mountains breaks forth the morning,
     The ev’ning gilds the ocean’s swell;
     All creatures joy in the sun’s returning,
     And I rejoice in my bonie Bell.

     The flowery Spring leads sunny Summer,
     The yellow Autumn presses near;
     Then in his turn comes gloomy Winter,
     Till smiling Spring again appear: 
     Thus seasons dancing, life advancing,
     Old Time and Nature their changes tell;
     But never ranging, still unchanging,
     I adore my bonie Bell.

Sweet Afton

     Flow gently, sweet Afton! amang thy green braes,
     Flow gently, I’ll sing thee a song in thy praise;
     My Mary’s asleep by thy murmuring stream,
     Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.