SONGS.

SONGS.

O, WAE BE TO THE ORDERS.

O WAE be to the orders that marched my luve awa', And wae be to the cruel cause that gars my tears doun fa',

O wae be to the bluidy wars in Hie Germanie,

For they hae ta'en my luve, and left a broken heart to me.

The drums beat in the mornin' afore the scriech o' day, And the wee wee fifes piped loud and shrill, while yet the morn was gray;

The bonnie flags were a' unfurled, a gallant sight to

see,

But waes me for my sodger lad that marched to Germanie.

O, lang, lang is the travel to the bonnie Pier o' Leith, O dreich it is to gang on foot wi' the snaw-drift in the teeth!

And O, the cauld wind froze the tear that gathered in my e'e,

When I gade there to see my luve embark for Germanie!

I looked ower the braid blue sea, sae long as could be

seen

Ae wee bit sail upon the ship that my sodger lad was in ; But the wind was blawin' sair and snell, and the ship sailed speedilie,

And the waves and cruel wars hae twinned my winsome luve frae me.

I never think o' dancin, and I downa try to sing, But a' the day I spier what news kind neibour bodies bring;

I sometimes knit a stocking, if knittin' it may be, Syne for every loop that I cast on, I am sure to let doun three.

My father says I'm in a pet, my mither jeers at me, And bans me for a dautit wean, in dorts for aye to be; But little weet they o' the cause that drumles sae my e'e: O they hae nae winsome luve like mine in the wars o' Germanie!

WEARIE'S WELL.

In a saft simmer gloamin',
In yon dowie dell,

It was there we twa first met
By Wearie's cauld well.
We sat on the brume bank
And looked in the burn,

But sidelang we looked on
Ilk ither in turn.

The corn-craik was chirming

His sad eerie cry,

And the wee stars were dreaming Their path through the sky;

The burn babbled freely

Its love to ilk flower,

But we heard and we saw nought

In that blessed hour.

We heard and we saw nought

Above or around;