SONG XXXI.

TIBBIE, I HAE SEEN THE DAY.

AIR. INVERCAULD'S REel.

I.

O Tibbie, I hae seen the day,
Ye would na been sae shy;
For laik o' gear ye lightly me,
But trowth, I care na by.

YESTREEN I met you on the moor,
Ye spak na, but gaed by like stoure;
Ye geck at me because I'm poor,

But fient a hair care I.

O Tibbie, I hae, &c.

II.

I doubt na, lass, but ye may think,

Because ye hae the name o' clink.

That ye can please me at a wink,
Whene'er ye like to try.

O Tibbie, I hae, &c.

III.

But sorrow tak him that's sae mean,
Altho' his pouch o' coin were clean,

Wha follows ony saucy quean
That looks sae proud and high.

O Tibbie, I hae, &c.

IV.

Altho' a lad were e'er sae smart,
If that he want the yellow dirt,
Ye'll cast your head anither airt,
And answer him fu' dry.

O Tibbie, I hae, &c.

V.

But if he hae the name o' gear,
Ye'll fasten to him like a brier,
Tho' hardly he for sense or lear,
Be better than the kye.
O Tibbie, I hae, &c.

VI.

But, Tibbie, lass, tak my advice, Your daddie's gear maks you sae nice; The deil a ane wad spier your price, Were ye as poor as I.

O Tibbie, I hae, &c.

VII.

There lives a lass in yonder park,
I would na gie her under sark,
For thee wi' a' thy thousan' mark,
Ye need na look sae high.

O Tibbie, I hae, &c.

SONG XXXII.

CLARINDA, MISTRESS OF MY SOUL.

I.

CLARINDA, mistress of my soul,
The measur'd time is run!

The wretch beneath the dreary pole,

So marks his latest sun.

II.

To what dark cave of frozen night
Shall poor Sylvander hie;
Depriv'd of thee, his life and light,

The sun of all his joy.

III.

We part-but by these precious drops,

That fill thy lovely eyes!

No other light shall guide my steps,
Till thy bright beams arise.

IV.

She, the fair sun of all her sex, Has blest my glorious day: And shall a glimmering planet fix My worship to its ray?