I’ll ne’er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy; But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never lov’d sae kindly, Had we never lov’d sae blindly, Never met—or never parted, We had ne’er been broken-hearted. Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest! Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest! Thine be ilka joy and treasure, Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure. Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, alas, for ever; Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee. MY NANNIE’S AWA Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays, And listens the lambkins that bleat o’er the braes, While birds warble welcomes in ilka green shaw; But to me it’s delightless—my Nannie’s awa. The snaw-drap and primrose our woodlands adorn, And violets bathe in the weet o’ the morn: They pain my sad bosom, sae sweetly they blaw, They mind me o’ Nannie—and Nannie’s awa. Thou laverock that springs frae the dews o’ the lawn The shepherd to warn o’ the grey-breaking dawn, And thou, mellow mavis, that hails the night-fa’, Gie over for pity—my Nannie’s awa. Come autumn sae pensive, in yellow and gray, And soothe me wi’ tidings o’ nature’s decay; The dark, dreary winter, and wild-driving snaw, Alane can delight me—now Nannie’s awa. MACPHERSON’S FAREWELL Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong, The wretch’s destinie: Macpherson’s time will not be long On yonder gallows tree. Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he; He played a spring and danced it round, Below the gallows tree. Oh, what is death but parting breath? On mony a bloody plain I’ve dared his face, and in this place I scorn him yet again! Untie these bands from off my hands, And bring to me my sword, And there’s no a man in all Scotland, But I’ll brave him at a word. I’ve lived a life of sturt and strife; I die by treacherie: It burns my heart I must depart And not avengèd be. Now farewell light, thou sunshine bright, And all beneath the sky! May coward shame distain his name, The wretch that dares not die! Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he; He played a spring and danced it round, Below the gallows tree. BRAW LADS Braw braw lads on Yarrow braes, Ye wander thro’ the blooming heather; But Yarrow braes nor Ettrick shaws Can match the lads o’ Gala Water. But there is ane, a secret ane, Aboon them a’ I lo’e him better; And I’ll be his, and he’ll be mine, The bonnie lad o’ Gala Water.