The Gallant Weaver

Tune--"_The Weavers' March._"

[Sent by the poet to the Museum. Neither tradition nor criticism has
noticed it, but the song is popular among the looms, in the west of
Scotland.]

I.
    Where Cart rins rowin to the sea,
    By mony a flow'r and spreading tree,
    There lives a lad, the lad for me,
        He is a gallant weaver.
    Oh, I had wooers aught or nine,
    They gied me rings and ribbons fine;
    And I was fear'd my heart would tine,
        And I gied it to the weaver.
II.
    My daddie sign'd my tocher-band,
    To gie the lad that has the land;
    But to my heart I'll add my hand,
        And gie it to the weaver.
    While birds rejoice in leafy bowers;
    While bees delight in op'ning flowers;
    While corn grows green in simmer showers,
        I'll love my gallant weaver.