Canst thou forget when every twilight tender,
Mid dews and sweets, beheld our slow steps rove,
And when the nights, which come in starry splendour,
Seemed dim and pallid to our heaven of love?
Canst thou forget?

Canst thou forget the childlike heart-outpouring
Of her whose fond faith knew no faltering fears?

The lashes drooped to veil her eyes' adoring,
Her speaking silence, and her blissful tears?

Canst thou forget?

COME AWA, COME AWA.

Canst thou forget the last most mournful meeting,

The trembling form clasped to thine anguished breast;
The heart against thine own, now wildly beating,

Now fluttering faint, grief-wrung, and fear-oppress’d—
Canst thou forget?

Canst thou forget, though all Love's spells be broken,
The wild farewell, which rent our souls apart?
And that last gift, Affection's holiest token,
The severed tress, which lay upon thy heart—
Canst thou forget?

Canst thou forget, belov'd one-comes there never
The angels of sweet visions to thy rest?

Brings she not back the fond hopes fled for ever,

While one lost name thrills through thy sleeping breast ?— Canst thou forget?

COME AWA, COME AWA.

COME awa, come awa,

An' o'er the march wi' me, lassie :

Leave your Southron wooers a',

My winsome bride to be, lassie.
Lands nor gear I proffer you,

Nor gauds to busk ye fine, lassie,
But I've a heart that's leal an' true,
And a' that heart is thine, lassie.

Come awa, come awa,

An' see the kindly North, lassie,
Out o'er the peaks o' Lammerlaw,
An' by the links o' Forth, lassie ;

Grace Greenwood.

And when we tread the heather bell

Aboon Demayat lea, lassie,

You'll view the land o' flood and fell

The noble North Countrie, lassie !

COME AWA, COME AWA.

Come awa, come awa,

An' leave your Southland hame, lassie,
The kirk is near, the ring is here-
An' I'm your Donald Græme, lassie;
Rock and reel, and spinning wheel,
And English cottage trig, lassie,
Haste, leave them a', wi' me to speel
The braes 'yont Stirling brig, lassie.

Come awa, come awa,

I ken your heart is mine, lassie,
And true luve sall make up for a',
For whilk ye might repine, lassie.
Your father-he has gien consent,

Your step-dame looks na kind, lassie-
Oh, that our foot were on the bent,
An' the Lowlands far behind, lassie !

Come awa, come awa,

Ye'll ne'er hae cause to rue, lassie ;
My cot blinks blithe beneath the shaw,
My bonny Avondhu, lassie ;

There's birk and slae on ilka brae,
And brakens waving fair, lassie ;

And gleaming lochs and mountains grey-
Can aught wi' them compare, lassic?

Come awa, come awa, &c.

Thomas Pringle.