“O’er the past too fondly wandering, On the hopeless future pondering; Chilly grief my life-blood freezes, Fell despair my fancy seizes. “Life, thou soul of every blessing, Load to misery most distressing, Gladly how would I resign thee, And to dark oblivion join thee!” Up In The Morning Early Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west, The drift is driving sairly; Sae loud and shill’s I hear the blast— I’m sure it’s winter fairly. Chorus.—Up in the morning’s no for me, Up in the morning early; When a’ the hills are covered wi’ snaw, I’m sure it’s winter fairly. The birds sit chittering in the thorn, A’ day they fare but sparely; And lang’s the night frae e’en to morn— I’m sure it’s winter fairly. Up in the morning’s, &c. How Long And Dreary Is The Night How long and dreary is the night, When I am frae my dearie! I sleepless lie frae e’en to morn, Tho’ I were ne’er so weary: I sleepless lie frae e’en to morn, Tho’ I were ne’er sae weary! When I think on the happy days I spent wi’ you my dearie: And now what lands between us lie, How can I be but eerie! And now what lands between us lie, How can I be but eerie! How slow ye move, ye heavy hours, As ye were wae and weary! It wasna sae ye glinted by, When I was wi’ my dearie! It wasna sae ye glinted by, When I was wi’ my dearie! Hey, The Dusty Miller Hey, the dusty Miller, And his dusty coat, He will win a shilling, Or he spend a groat: Dusty was the coat, Dusty was the colour, Dusty was the kiss That I gat frae the Miller. Hey, the dusty Miller, And his dusty sack; Leeze me on the calling Fills the dusty peck: Fills the dusty peck, Brings the dusty siller; I wad gie my coatie For the dusty Miller. Duncan Davison There was a lass, they ca’d her Meg, And she held o’er the moors to spin; There was a lad that follow’d her, They ca’d him Duncan Davison. The moor was dreigh, and Meg was skeigh, Her favour Duncan could na win; For wi’ the rock she wad him knock, And aye she shook the temper-pin. As o’er the moor they lightly foor, A burn was clear, a glen was green, Upon the banks they eas’d their shanks, And aye she set the wheel between: But Duncan swoor a haly aith, That Meg should be a bride the morn; Then Meg took up her spinning-graith, And flang them a’ out o’er the burn. We will big a wee, wee house, And we will live like king and queen; Sae blythe and merry’s we will be, When ye set by the wheel at e’en. A man may drink, and no be drunk; A man may fight, and no be slain; A man may kiss a bonie lass, And aye be welcome back again! The Lad They Ca’Jumpin John