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JEANIE'S NAE MAIR— Prize Song, No. I.
Words by Miss Young. Music by A. Hume.
Slmv und with much feeling.
an' sleet war - stle hard in the air; An' cauld is my hame-stead, but
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cauld - er my bo-som, An' thow-less my heart, for my Jean-ie's nae main
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The pride o' my heart, and the joy o' my bo - som, She kept my
Ballentando. a tempo.
auld days free frae sor-row and care; But she's gane from my sight, like a
rail.
frost nip -pit blos-som, And gane are my joys since my Jean-ie's nae mair.
I hear na her silv'ry voice ring thro' the hallar,
Wi' music as sweet as the saft simmer air,
Nor hear her licht fitfa' steal roun' in the gloamin' —
An' ilk thing looks dreary since Jeanie's nae mair.
It's no that the warld's grown darker or drearer —
It's no that its flowers are bloomin' less fair;
But my life's sun's gane down, an' nae mair can they cheer me
It's aye gloamin' round me since Jeanie's nae mair.
The sunbeams shoot over the ocean's dark bosom,
Like glints o' the glory that's shinin' up by,
An' the ebb o' the wave comes like sabs o' emotion,
Betiding the time I maun heave my last sigh.
Like a storm-rifted tree to the grave I maun dauner,
Nae kind heart to cheer, or my sorrow to share ;
But I'll aye keep a thocht to the world that's aboon us,
An' I ken that my Jeanie will welcome me there.