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O LOGIE of Buchan, O Logie the Laird.

They've ta'en awa Janie that delv'd in the

yard, Who play'd on the pipe wi' the viol sae sma, They ha' e ta'en awa Jamie, the flow'r o' them a'; He said, think na lang lasie, cho'I gang awa, He said, think na lang lassie, tuo' I gang awa, For the siminer is coming, cauld winter's awa, And I'll come and see thee, in spite o' them a.'

Sandy has ousen, has gear, and has kye,
A house, and a hadden, and siller for by;
But I'd tak mine ain lad wi' his staff in his hand,
Before I'd hae hin with his houses and land;

He said, &c.

My daddy looks sulky, my mither looks sour,
They frown upon Jamie, because he is poor;
Tho'l loe them as well as a daughter should do,
They're nahalf so dear to me, my Jamie, as you;

He said, &c.

I sit on my creepie, and spin at my wheel,
And think on the laddie that loed me sae weel;
He had but a saxpence, he brak it in twa,
And he gied me the half o't when he gaed awa,
Then haste ye hack Jamie, and bide na awa,
Then haste ye hack Jamie, and bido na awa,
Simmer is coming, cauld winter's awa,
And ye'll come and see me in spite o' them a'.

OH! OH! where, and oh! where is your Highland

laddie gone? He's gone to fight the French for King George

apon the throne, And its oh! in my heart, I wish him safe at

home.

Oli! where, and oh! where, did your Highland

laddie dwell? He dwelt in merry Scotland, at the sign of the

blue beli, And its oh! in my heart, I love my laddie well. In what clothes, in what clothes is your Highland

laddie clad? His bonnet of the Saxon green, and his waistcoat

of the plaid, And its oh! in my heart, I love my Highland

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Suppose, and suppose, that your Highland lad

should die? The bagpipes shuld play over him, and I'd sit me

down and cry, And its oh! in my heart, I wish he may not die,

Oh! where, &c.

T RISE with the morn, I contemplate the sun, 1 Aurora's bright lustre I see, I sigh with regret when the day-light is gone,

For night brings no solace to me.

I wander in groves whilst the nightingales sing,

I traverse the sands of the sea, They hear not my sigh, so no comfort they bring,

For what can bring comfort to me?

Alas! my poor heart, once so sprightly and gay,

No more can I boast to be free:
Love's fever consumes it-Ah! fatal the day,

That brought such a torinent to me!

At night my sad pillow's bedew'd with my tears,

Sleep flies till entomb'd I shall be: In the grave there's an end to troubles and fears,

And that's consolation for me.

BRITANNIA's sons, attend my call,

D And jolly sailors, one and all, And drink that ills may ne'er befal

Brave Nelson and the Vanguard. On the first of August, off the Nile, Almighty God was pleas’d to smile,

On Nelson brave,

On the wave,
On board each lad did all aspire,
To conquer, when the word " to fire,”

On board the valiant Vanguard.

Genius of Britain ! aid my pen,
To sing the praise of gallant men,
Let's bless them, lads -all join amen!

On board the valiant Vanguard.

Saint

Saint Vincent and Nelson's glorious name,
Inspires each ardent tar for fame,

Nelson and Hood

Undaunted stood;
And fought with hearts replete with zeal,
Beating for their country's weal;

Success to the valiant Vanguard.

Brave Admiral Brueys (though our foc)
He fought most brave, but soon did know,
That British tars were never slow,

To fight on board the Vanguard.
Our valour threw him in despair,
One noble ship was blown in air;

To Britons true,

They cry'd morbleu!
For when they saw their sailors fall,
They struck their colours one and all,

To Nelson and the Vanguard.

As British tars were ever brave,
So soft humanity we have;
A fellow-creature oft we save, ,

On board the valiant Vanguard,
It made each British sailor weep,
To see ten hundred in the deep,

Each haughty foe

Were soon laid low!
Let ev'ry loyal Briton sing,
Success to George, our noble king,

Brave Nelson, and the Vanguard.

THOUGH WITHOUGII mountains high the billows roll,

And angry ocean's in a foam,
The sailor gayly stinge the bowl,
And thinks on ner he left at home.

Kind love his guardian spirit still,

His mind's made up, come what will; Tempests may mast, or splinters tear,

Sails and rigging go to wrack, So she loves him, he loves so dear,

'Tis all one to Jack.

His friend in limbo should he find,

Ilis wife and children brought to shame;
To ev'ry thing but kindness blind,
Jack sigus his ruin with his name.

Friendship the worthy motive still,

His mind's made up, come what will; The time comes round, by hell-hounds press'd,

Goods, clothes, and person go to wrack; But, since he succour'd the distress'd,

'Tis all one to Jack.

Once more at sea, prepar'd to fight,

A friendly pledge, round goes the can; And, though large odds appear in sight, He meets the danger like a man :

Honour his guardian spirit still,

His mind's made up, come what will; Like some fierce lion, see him go

Where horror grim anarks the attack; So he can save a drowning foe,

'Tis all one to Jack.

And

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