GENTLE SHEPHERD.

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Page 2 - I wish nae mair of a' that's rare. My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, To a' the lave I'm cauld ; But she gars a' my spirits glow, At wauking of the fauld. My Peggy smiles sae kindly, Whene'er I whisper love, That I look down on a' the town,— That I look down upon a crown.
Page xxviii - BE sure ye dinna quat the Grip Of ilka Joy when ye are young, Before auld Age your Vitals nip, And lay ye twafald o'er a Rung. SWEET Youth's a...
Page lii - O happy love ! where love like this is found ! O heart-felt raptures ! bliss beyond compare ! I've paced much this weary, mortal round, And sage experience bids me this declare: — "If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents...
Page 14 - Tis no to gie ; your merchant's to the bent : His honour mauna want ; he poinds your gear : Syne, driven frae house and hald, where will ye steer? Dear Meg, be wise, and live a single life ; Troth, 'tis nae mows to be a married wife. Peg. May sic ill luck befa' that silly she Wha has sic fears, for that was never me.
Page xlvii - I'm sae happy, I shall have delight To hear their little plaints, and keep them right. Wow, Jenny! can there greater pleasure be, Than see sic we tots toolying at your knee ; When a' they ettle at, their greatest wish, Is to be made of, and obtain a kiss ? Can there be toil in tenting day and night The like of them, when love makes care delight ? JENNY. But poortith, Peggy, is the warst of a...
Page 16 - Than aught in love the like of us can spy. See yon twa elms that grow up side by side : Suppose them some years syne bridegroom and bride ; Nearer and nearer ilka year they've prest, Till wide their spreading branches are increas'd, And in their mixture now are fully blest: This shields the other frae the eastlin blast, That in return defends it frae the wast.
Page 7 - tween ilka smack. But weel I kend she meant nae as she spak. Dear Roger, when your jo puts on her gloom, Do ye sae too, and never fash your thumb: Seem to forsake her, soon she'll change her mood; Gae woo anither, and she'll gang clean wood.
Page 14 - A dyvour buys your butter, woo and cheese, But, or the day of payment, breaks and flees. With glooman brow the laird seeks in his rent : 'Tis no to gi'e ; your merchant's to the bent ; His Honour...
Page 16 - I'll hae a' things made ready to his will ; In winter when he toils thro' wind and rain, A bleezing ingle, and a clean hearth-stane ; And soon as he flings by his plaid and staff, The seething pat's be ready to tak' aft. Clean hag-a-bag I'll spread upon his board, And serve him wi...
Page liii - For yet the sun was wading thro' the mist, And she was close upon me e'er she wist ; Her coats were kiltit, and did sweetly shaw Her straight bare legs that whiter were than snaw. Her cockernony snooded up fou sleek...

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